


holidays with dimya - 2020

by msaudreyanne



Series: holidays with dimya [1]
Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26326924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msaudreyanne/pseuds/msaudreyanne
Summary: a series of one-shots with our favorite idiots celebrating holidaystags subject to change***rating change!! consider yourself warned?
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry & Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway), Dimitri | Dmitry/Anya | Anastasia Romanov (Anastasia 1997 & Broadway)
Series: holidays with dimya [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089176
Comments: 155
Kudos: 86





	1. Labor Day

Anya was about 45 minutes into her hike when she realized she might have been a tad bit lost.

She knew roughly where she was and the general direction she’d need to head if she wanted to make it back to her family’s cabin, but that was about as far as her knowledge went right now.

_Great._

All she had wanted to do was to get some space from her overwhelming family. They’d all made the trip to the cabin for Labor Day weekend at Alexandra’s insistence that they spend one weekend together before summer ended. With all of the children now grown and on their own, the family was rarely able to get everyone under one roof at the same time. Anya had originally loved the idea of seeing her family again. She missed them all dearly and this would be the only time she’d get to see them before Christmas, most likely.

What she wasn’t a fan of was the apparent ambush they’d all planned. Every one of her siblings were now happily coupled up with their perfect person, which meant they could now combine all of their efforts to set up Anya with whatever nephew or grandson of some rich family friend. It was all very well-intended, she was sure, but if she had to sit through another minute of it, she would fling herself into the lake.

As a child, she’d loved coming to the cabin and exploring the trails that wound around the property. She used to know them like the back of her hand, but it had been years since she’d come out here and well…she might have forgotten a specific turn somewhere a mile back.

She refused to panic though. This would just further cement her mother’s argument that Anya needed to find someone to take care of her. She was 27, damnit, and she didn’t need some snobby man-boy telling her what to do.

Just then, she heard a rustle in the bushes next to her and the panic couldn’t be stopped. Looking around desperately, she grabbed the nearest object that could be used as a weapon if need be. The broken branch she found would likely give her a dozen slivers before it could hurt whatever was lurking in the bushes, but it was all she had for now.

Suddenly, the rustling stopped. Anya didn’t drop her branch, though. She was now properly spooked and her flight or fight response was kicking in.

A man’s deep laughter startled her and she whipped around to see arguably the most handsome man she’d ever met standing behind her, arms full of what looked like firewood.

“Easy there, Princess. You could poke someone’s eye out with that thing.” He smiled at her and she tried not to focus too hard on the dimple that appeared along his jaw or how his brown eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth.

“I believe that’s the entire point of having this as a defense mechanism, Strange Man. Now who are you and what are you doing here?” She knew that this area technically wasn’t private land anymore, but it still wasn’t traveled frequently by tourists.

“Who are you to make demands of me? Pretty sure this is still a free country, right?” The man went to set the wood down and she now noticed the tent and makeshift camp set up just off the trail. She also didn’t miss the way his muscles flexed while carrying that weight.

“My name is Anya and I didn’t know people camped up here…” Seriously. Was he trying to get attacked? Although, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen a single person on her hike until now…

“Well, Princess Anya, most people don’t camp up here because they’ve rented those fancy schmancy cabins down by the lake.” She knew that, of course. This area wasn’t the most well-traveled part of the state park, but that still didn’t explain who he was and why he was up here.

“So who are you and why are you up here instead of down at one of the cabins?” Anya really needed to just drop it and try and find her way back home. The sun was starting to set and her family would likely send out a search party soon, if she wasn’t careful.

“If you must know, I’m camping up here because I’d like to get away from the rich assholes that think those cabins are actually roughing it. And my name is Dmitry.” He wasn’t exactly far off. Anya’s sisters had commented several times how difficult it was staying somewhere with shitty Wi-Fi and how they were practically living in medieval times. That might’ve been another reason Anya had been eager to set out on her own.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Dmitry.” He barked out a laugh at that and Anya huffed to herself. “I’m sorry for trying to be friendly to you.”

“You call this friendly? You were going to attack me with a tree branch a couple minute ago?” Alright, so he had a valid point.

“What was I supposed to do? I’m alone in the woods and I wasn’t exactly prepared to run into anyone!” This man sure could get her blood boiling; and they’d just met!

“Well I won’t keep you from your hike. Better hurry up though, Princess. It’s going to be dark soon and I’m sure you don’t want to get lost up on this trail without any light.” He narrowed his eyes at her and Anya felt the urge to wipe that stupid look off of his face. How was he able to make such (correct) assumptions about her when he barely knew her!

“You know what, fine! Enjoy your solitude, _Dmitry_.” She dropped her branch and continued up the path, despite knowing eventually she’d need to turn around to get back to the cabin.

_Never mind that. I can’t let him know he’s right._

As usual, though, Anya let her irritation consume her. She wasn’t paying attention to the path or what she was doing until she was suddenly on the ground, her ankle having given out on the loose terrain. She wasn’t able to stop the yelp of pain that escaped her.

_Great. Could this get any worse?_

She surveyed the damage. Her hands were scuffed from her fall, but where otherwise unscathed. Her knee was bleeding, but it didn’t look too serious. The real problem was going to be her ankle that was now throbbing in pain. How she was going to make it back down the path now seemed impossible.

Then she heard Dmitry calling her name.

He came running up the path, careful of his steps, and crouched down next to her.

“Are you alright? I heard you scream. What happened?” Oh so now he could be a decent human being?

Anya gritted her teeth in pain. “I twisted my ankle is all. You can go back to your camp know. I’ll manage just fine.”

To her utmost annoyance, Dmitry laughed. “And how were you going to manage getting back down the path? Can you even stand?”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Anya immediately pushed herself up to stand, but promptly fell back to the ground with another yelp.

_Shit._

“That’s what I thought. Now, will you let me help you or are you stubborn enough to camp out alone without any protection until they send out a search party?” Stupid pretty smug bastard.

“Fine. But don’t get any funny ideas, Dmitry. I’m sure I can find another tree branch to poke your eye out.” Was it ridiculous for a 27-year old to pout in this situation? Probably. Would that stop her? Not at all.

“Oh yes. You’ve finally figured out my plan. I camp on a remote trail and prey on bratty women who injure themselves. It’s a real turn on for me.” At least he could match her sarcasm, even if he did make her want to punch him in the face.

Dmitry gingerly grabbed her ankle and prodded around, trying to find anything strange. When he hit a particularly sensitive part, Anya hissed in pain and he immediately let go. She tried not to miss the feel of his hands against her skin.

“Well. I don’t think you broke anything, but it’s definitely sprained. Where do you need to be returned to?” He was still crouched down beside her and she finally took notice of how close they were.

“Um…” When she didn’t respond immediately, he looked up from her ankle with concern. “Sorry. I’m one of the rich assholes staying in the fancy schmancy cabins.” Dmitry looked slightly guilty as she quoted his earlier words. He hadn’t been wrong though.

Dmitry coughed to cover his embarrassment. “Alright. Well which would you rather do? I can either give you a piggy back ride down the trail, or just throw you over my shoulder?”

“Is there a possible third option?”

“Yeah. You can stay the night with me in my tent.”

Oh.

 _Oh._ Dmitry’s eyes had flashed with something, but it was gone before Anya could really study it. She’d be lying if the idea of spending the night with this strange, handsome man that drove her crazy wasn’t tempting…

“Let’s try piggy back ride, if you’re alright with that?” That seemed to be the safest option. Although being wrapped around him didn’t sound too bad…

“Ok, Princess. Up you get.” He turned and grabbed her hands as she threw them around his shoulders. The next thing she knew, she was up off the ground, legs tight around Dmitry’s waist.

She prayed he couldn’t feel the heat in her cheeks against his neck.

They did end up stopping at his camp site for just a bit. At first, Anya was worried perhaps this would be where he kidnapped her – not that she’d protest too much at this point – but he proved to be the perfect gentleman. He sat her gently down on a rock near his tent and grabbed a first aid kit from his back.

“I’m just going to wrap this and put an ice pack on it to help with the swelling before we finish the trip."

“Dmitry. You don’t have to take me back down. I can manage on my own, really. Besides, if you take me down now, there’ll be no light for you to get back to your camp.”

Dmitry rolled his eyes and continued wrapping her ankle. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Only when I want to be.”

“Well don’t worry about me. I’ll get you back to where you need to be and then I’ll be on my -”

He was interrupted by a large clap of thunder overhead. They’d been so preoccupied with Anya’s ankle that neither had noticed the storm clouds gathering.

“Shit. The weather report said it was only a 15% chance of storms today.” Dmitry cursed again and then finished wrapping Anya’s ankle.

“Do you have a cellphone on you?” Anya nodded quickly. “Good. You might want to text your people that you’re safe, but we won’t be able to head back down until the thunderstorm passes. It’s not smart to be out hiking with lightning.”

Her family was going to murder her, she was sure of it. Anya decided to send a message to her father and Alexei, the two rational group members, with the hopes that they’d be able to quell the four protective mama bears that would set up the path themselves to retrieve her.

“You sure this isn’t some ruse to get me to spend the night with you?” She was mostly kidding, but she still had some sense in her. This was a man she’d met less than an hour ago and they were in the middle of nowhere.

“I’m not sure either of us could handle a night together unless it was absolutely necessary, Anya.” The way he looked at her spoke volumes, but he had a point. They hadn’t exactly gotten off to the best start. “Now come on. Let’s get inside the tent before the rain starts.”

No sooner had they settled into the small space, Anya’s ankle propped up on a backpack, when the downpour started. She checked her phone and sure enough her message had gotten through to both recipients. Her father expressed his worry, but Alexei only responded with a few inappropriate emojis. Rolling her eyes, she chucked her phone and looked over at Dmitry.

“So. What do we do now?”

“We try to get some rest and not kill each other before morning.” He laid down opposite her and turned to face the wall of the tent, effectively avoiding her.

Anya moved to lay down as well, mindful to keep as much space as the small tent would allow. She turned over her shoulder for a moment after listening to Dmitry’s breathing even out.

“Thank you, Dmitry. For saving me. I’m sorry I ruined your camping trip.” 

He didn’t move an inch, but he did respond, quiet enough that she almost didn’t hear him. “Definitely didn’t ruin it.”

The next thing Anya knew, it was morning. She blinked her eyes open to find that one of them had shifted in the night, because she was now cuddled into Dmitry’s chest, her arms pinned in between them. Dmitry’s arms had wrapped themselves around her waist and she found she couldn’t move away.

She probably should’ve been more concerned about waking up in the arms of a man she hardly knew, but she figured that could be a worry for Future Anya. Present Anya snuggled in closer to his warm embrace and enjoyed his answering grumble that filled his chest. It felt safe here, locked in his arms. 

Dmitry woke up sometime later, stiffening as he realized the position they’d gravitated towards in their sleep. He slowly untangled himself from Anya and pulled on his jacket before leaving the tent. Anya stretched in his absence, but stopped abruptly when she bumped her bad ankle against the backpack and squealed in pain.

Dmitry’s head popped back into the tent in worry. “Are you ok?!”

“Yep. Yes. Totally fine. Ignore me, please.” Anya grabbed her ankle and tried to breathe through the pain.

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, but I admire the idea.” Anya blushed at his words, which caught Dmitry off guard. He must’ve realized what he’d said, because he blushed as well and his hand ran nervously through his hair. “Um. We’ve got blue skies, so I can get you back to your family whenever you’re ready, Princess.”

She was growing rather fond of that nickname. Part of her – a large part of her – hoped he’d stick around to continue calling her that, no matter how crazy the thought sounded.

“I’m ready when you are.” He helped her hobble out of the tent and then she was on his back once more. He smelled ridiculously good for someone that was sleeping outside for several days. She told herself she was being subtle as she burrowed into his neck, but she didn’t miss the way Dmitry’s smile spread across his face.

The trip back down was too fast for Anya’s liking. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, just yet, to her new…well, Dmitry. She couldn’t quite explain it but something about him pulled her in and she craved more of him.

As her cabin came into sight, she subconsciously tightened her grip on Dmitry. He answered her with a flex of his hands around her legs, but said nothing out loud. Anya’s father and siblings were waiting outside for them and they hurried to help her down from Dmitry’s back. They were all quick to thank him and then turned to fret over their injured sister.

Dmitry smiled at the scene before turning back towards the path. His stomach grumbled, but then Anya was calling back to him.

“Dmitry!” He turned to look at her, waving from the back deck. “Do you want to stay for breakfast?”

His smile must’ve been enough of an answer because Anya’s face split into her own grin. As he made his way back to the cabin, he heard her brother call from inside.

“Would you like to stay forever?”

They both laughed and Dmitry rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “Breakfast…breakfast would be good.”

“Good. Oh and Dmitry?” Anya looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes?”

She reached up and kissed him just on the corner of his mouth, a whisper of a promise. “Thank you, for letting me ruin your camping trip.”

“You can ruin camping for me anytime.” Anya laced her fingers with his and he helped her hobble into the dining room of the cabin, where they were met by her entire family greeting them. Only a few of the greetings were not appropriate enough to repeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Labor Day!
> 
> Comment below your thoughts! I have several ideas for future chapters, but I'm not restricting this to major holidays, so if you know of any fun obscure ones that SCREAM Dimya, let me know!
> 
> Thank you for reading 💛💛💛


	2. National Chocolate Milkshake Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> National Chocolate Milkshake Day (US) is 9-12-20!
> 
> For this one-shot, they’re not exactly celebrating the holiday, but CLOSE ENOUGH.

Dmitry had taken notice of the young woman at the end of the counter the moment she’d walked into the diner. She was dressed to the nines in a blue sparkly gown, complete with white gloves and jewels probably worth more than this entire establishment. 

Once he had gotten past his initial shock at seeing someone like  _ her, here _ of all places, he returned to his tables to check on his customers. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d taken notice of her though, as most of the patrons kept sneaking glances at the glittery form that had taken up residence at the counter.

He did his best to ignore their sniggers and whispers, but he couldn’t help the wave of protectiveness that engulfed him. He hadn’t even spoken to her yet, but something told him she wasn’t here out of fun and excitement.

Only when he’d finished running orders did he finally get a close up of this mystery woman.

“Anything I can get for you, Miss?” She must’ve not seen him, because she jumped at the sound of his voice in close proximity.

When she looked up, he noticed that her dress wasn’t the only thing that sparkled. The most breathtaking blue eyes he’d ever seen hastily averted from his as soon as he took in the tears that filled them.

“Oh…I’m sorry…I’ll just have a coffee, please.”

“Coming right up.”

He brought her out a mug and filled it with the hot coffee, but she didn’t move to add anything to it or drink it. She seemed to be in a trance of some sort, watching as the steam curled up from the mug. Dmitry tried to busy himself with the rest of his tasks, but soon those were finished and his tables were empty, save for the woman and her now-cold cup of coffee.

Making his mind up, he went to the back for the necessary supplies. The cook gave him an odd look, but Dmitry waved him off. He’d clean up after himself like always, so Vlad could mind his own business. Sure enough, the older man took one look at Dmitry’s creation, chuckled to himself, and then bid him goodnight. Dmitry was scheduled to close the diner tonight, so it’d be just him and the mystery woman, if she was still out there.

He peeked up through the small window for orders and sure enough, there she was, hunched over the counter. She looked absolutely miserable, if he was being honest with himself. He plopped a few more cherries on top of his creation for good measure and then his feet were carrying him back out front.

She didn’t look up as he emerged from the back, but once he slid the glass in front of her, her eyes raised from the counter, taking in the giant mess of a creation he made.

“…what’s this?”

“It’s a chocolate shake. I figured you could use one?” He tried to shrug it off, but now as he took in her reaction to his ‘gift’ he worried she might think he was insane.

He might’ve gone a little overboard with the whipped cream and chocolate drizzle, but she looked like someone with a sweet tooth and he’d hoped it would at least get a chuckle from her.

Her gloved hand reached out to grab the glass, chocolate syrup coating the delicate white fabric and he rushed to apologize, but was cut off by her laughter spilling from her painted lips. The silliness of it all consumed her, previously withheld tears now fell down her cheeks and he couldn’t help but join her. Perhaps he was more dangerous in the kitchen than he’d originally thought.

When she finally settled to quiet giggles interrupted by a hiccup or two, she met his eyes. She slid her now ruined gloves off of her arms and reached across the counter to grab his hand in hers.

“Thank you. This is…this is perfect.”

“Ah. You’re welcome…I’m Dmitry, by the way.” Her hands were warm around his and neither made any move to separate.

“Nice to meet you, Dmitry. My name’s Anastasia, but please. Call me Anya.”  _ Anya. _ That suited her. She might have been dressed like a princess, but it didn’t look like she wanted all of that, if the ruined gloves were anything to go by.

He realized it was his turn to speak, but he wasn’t sure if he’d overstayed his welcome. He shuffled awkwardly back from the counter, his hand slipping from Anya’s to run through his messy hair.

“I…I should let you be…I - ”

“Dmitry?”

“Yes?” Damnit, why did he have to sound like such a hopeful idiot?

“Would you happen to have an extra straw? I’m not sure I can finish this whole thing by myself and it’d be nice to have some company.” She popped one of the cherries in her mouth and Dmitry fought the blush he knew was covering his cheeks.

With a nervous chuckle, he nodded, grabbed another straw, and walked around the counter to sit on the stool next to her.

They didn’t talk about what brought her here tonight or what had caused her tears. Instead, Dmitry regaled Anya with diner horror stories that had her laughing so hard she claimed her sides would burst. They slowly made their way through the milkshake, taking turns so as to avoid being too close to one another. At least, that was until Anya picked up some of the whipped cream with her dainty finger and wiped it on his nose, giggling to herself at the outraged face he made.

Dmitry felt his breathing stop when she leaned in and kissed the fluff from his nose. Anya pulled back a fraction and appeared to gauge his reaction. He wasn’t sure what she must’ve seen, but the next thing he knew, she had leaned back in and claimed his lips with hers, the taste of chocolate and sweet cream and something entirely Anya overcoming his senses.

When they broke a part, Dmitry couldn’t help the stupid grin that split his face. Anya giggled again and then brushed her hand against his face, thumb resting in the spot where he was sure his dimple was glaring at her.

“Can…can I walk you home? After I close up shop, that is. I mean. It’s dark out and I just want to make sure you get where you need to be safely…” He wasn’t ready for this night to end. He craved anything and everything that was Anya.

“I’d like that. Thank you, Dmitry.” She was all shy smiles now, despite that rather brave display she’d just shown.

“Great. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He kissed her cheek gently and marveled at the tinkling bell sound of her laughter.

“I’ll be right here, waiting.” Anya returned her attention back to the remaining milkshake as Dmitry walked to the back to finish closing up.

Chocolate shakes might be his new favorite drink…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I let my mama read this one (I haven’t shown ANY of my work to family) and the first thing she said was “So then you post what happens next, right?”
> 
> “Mom it’s a one-shot. It’s done.”
> 
> “But why was she there?? Where do they go?? I need answers!”
> 
> Chris please stop influencing my mother 🤣💛
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> 💛💛💛


	3. Wife Appreciation Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 3rd Sunday in September is Wife Appreciation Day!
> 
> At the suggestion of Chris, I give you - Dimya Smut (at least...as smutty as I'll go for now)

They’re at dinner with friends when Dmitry first started acting…off.

They’d been married for four months now and were heavily rooted in their honeymoon stage. Well actually, when Anya thought about it, they’d been in the honeymoon stage since they’d first met. Her sisters often remarked that their love was both disgusting and mind-boggling. How they could remain so in love all the time despite their twin fiery tempers was beyond logic and reason.

“It’s sickening, Anastasia. I swear, the other day when we were looking through your wedding album, you two were seconds away from going at it on the coffee table. Do you even manage to leave the house for work?” Tatiana, ever the pragmatic sister, was most confused by their relationship.

“You’re overreacting. We would never do that with you there.” Anya rolled her eyes at her sister’s dramatics. She and Dmitry had no problem behaving in public.

“That is a lie and you know it! I still have nightmares about that time I found you two in the coat closet at Nana’s.”

So perhaps she had a point. Many couples were affectionate, though. It was only natural to want to jump each other at a moment’s notice when they were still new to the marriage thing.

Tonight at dinner though, they’re very well-behaved. She was almost impressed with how normal they were able to appear. Dmitry’s hand rested respectfully on her knee under the table as he carried on the conversation with their friends. Anya was only half-listening, already eager to get home and drop the expectations of being social.

She perked up, however, when the weekend was brought up.

“Got any exciting plans for the weekend?” _Please say no. Please say no. PLEASE._ She’d had her fill of extroversion for the week. She wanted nothing other than a weekend alone with her husband.

“Ohhh, yes. Very exciting.” Dmitry’s hand on her knee slid up her thigh and squeezed teasingly.

This bastard was up to something…

Using her sweetest, most convincing voice, she joined the conversation. “Do tell, Dima. I seem to be drawing a blank.”

Of course, her stupid husband had the audacity to grin back at her like a devil. “It’s a surprise, _wife._ ” She always felt such a thrill when he called her that. The worst part was that he knew full well how much she enjoyed him using that title.

Perplexed, she let the subject change quickly to their friends’ own plans, already absorbed with the possibilities of what Dmitry could be up to. Was there something important she had forgotten? He was a stickler for remembering big dates and celebrating them appropriately, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what this weekend was.

Friday passed with no hint to what he had planned. She tried to be subtle in her questioning, but he would always dodge answering. It didn’t take much – all he’d have to do was trail kisses down her neck and Anya quickly forgot whatever it was they were talking about.

Saturday, Dmitry was practically vibrating with excitement. She tried to corner him in the kitchen and convince him to spill the beans, but he was resolute in keeping the surprise.

“You could at least give me a hint!” If she thought stomping her foot in frustration would get her anywhere, she might’ve done it just then.

“You want a hint?” Dmitry leaned in close, his lips hovering a breath away from hers for a pointed moment. Then he moved to whisper in her ear. “Just know that I plan on taking good care of my _wife_.”

When he pulled back it was with that same devilish grin as he saw her eyes had momentarily fluttered close. Damn him for being able to do this to her!

“I’ve got to run to the store quick, but text me if you think of anything you want!” He kissed her on the cheek and then was out the door before she could drag him back to their room and prevent him from leaving. 

She was going to murder him before this weekend was over, she was sure of it.

His ‘quick’ trip to the store took longer than she’d expected. He’d returned with his arms full of grocery bags, to which she was quick to help him unload. If her eyes lingered a bit on his muscles as they flexed with the weight he was carrying, Dmitry thankfully didn’t call her out on it.

“What’s all this? Are we expecting a mandatory quarantine?” Anya pressed herself up against his back as he began unpacking the groceries. Her hands slid under his shirt and traced the skin she’d memorized long ago. She felt his chuckle rumble through him and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

“As much fun as that sounds, this is just to get us through tomorrow. I didn’t want to run the risk of us needing to leave the apartment, so I might have gone a little overboard.” He seemed to survey the food that was now covering their countertops.

“Oh?” This was the closest he’d come to detailing their secret plans. “We’re not leaving home tomorrow?”

Dmitry’s shoulders had tensed as he realized his slip up. He turned around and pulled her arms up to loop around his neck, his own hands settling on her hips.

“You are very nosy. I know it’s impossible for you, but try and be patient?” He kissed the tip of her nose as she scrunched it in annoyance. “It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

She huffed, but he looked so earnest and excited. “Fine. But just know that I will have my revenge on this torture.”

Dmitry’s eyes gleamed at that. “I look forward to it, _wife_.”

“You keep calling me that and I’m going to ruin whatever plans you have and keep you locked in the bedroom for a week.”

He barked out a laugh at her threat. “Don’t tempt me, Nastya.”

But instead of taking her up on the offer, he finished his task of putting away the food. Anya resigned to the couch and curled up under a blanket until he came to join her. If she was going to have to put up with this ‘patience’ bullshit, she was at least going to get some cuddles out of it.

The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Dmitry kissing the top of her head and whispering his love to her.

* * *

She woke up to lips trailing kisses along her jaw and neck. She shifted in warm arms with a contented sigh.

“You can keep doing that.” Anya felt him huff a laugh against her skin as she blinked awake. The sun was just peeking through the blinds, but she could tell it was still early. He looked up at her with that _smirk_ of his and she was now fully aware of his intentions as his lips traveled down the v of her shirt. “Is this part of my surprise?”

“Hmmm. It could be.” She sat up so he could remove her shirt, his lips following his hands as they mapped the newly exposed skin.

“I think I like this surprise.” Her fingers carded through his hair, tugging gently when he nipped at the sensitive underside of her breast.

Dmitry’s eyes were dark with want as his hands slid both her pajama bottoms and underwear down her hips. Anya’s eyes rolled back as he kissed along her inner thigh, ignoring where she wanted him most to give the same treatment to her other leg.

“Dima, I’m going to kill you.” His warm breath against her skin was driving her insane.

“That seems counter-productive to what you want, Nastya.” Damn him for managing to stay so eloquent when she could barely process anything other than his mouth and his hands and the _want_ she felt.

“ _Fuck_ …Dima…” He had left the space between her legs to return to her mouth and kiss the frustrated groan from her lips. They broke for air and Anya couldn’t take his teasing any longer. “Get back down there and finish what you’ve started.”

And _oh_ , did he take her words to heart. Anya wasn’t sure she’d experienced that much pleasure since their honeymoon. He made her come twice with his mouth, a third time with his hands, before he finally thrusts into her. Then it was just the sounds of their labored breathing, hips meeting, and the occasional curse before they're both collapsing into the bed, utterly spent. They were both in desperate need of a shower but lacking the energy to move, when Anya flings her arm out to try and grasp his hand.

“So.” Her brain wasn’t quite ready for speaking just yet.

“So?” Dmitry turned his head to meet her eyes, his smile entirely too smug for her liking, but she supposed he earned it.

“Was this my surprise? Because, like, wow.” If possible, Dmitry’s smugness increased tenfold. “Stop that. I don’t have the energy for your ego just yet.”

“Oh there’s more, _wife_.”

“You do _not_ get to call me that when I still can’t feel my limbs. That’s not fair.” She squeezed his hand in hers, hopefully conveying that she wasn’t entirely serious. “Also, what else is there? My lady parts can only take so much.”

“I’ll be sure to give your lady parts a break for the time being.” And _oh_ , she should not be turned on again already. “I’m going to carry you to the shower so we can get cleaned up. Then I’m making breakfast. After that, what we do is up to you, but we can’t leave the apartment and clothing is optional.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and Anya laughed as hard as her exhausted lungs would allow.

“Pancakes?” Dmitry nodded, smile glued to his face. He knew her so well. “What did I do to warrant such princess treatment?”

He stood, scooping her up in his arms to carry her to the bathroom in order to begin Part 2 of his plans.

“It’s Wife Appreciation Day. Didn’t you know?” He sat her down so he could start the shower, giving it time to heat up. Anya wrapped her arms around him to steady herself, legs still very much like jello.

“Dear sweet Jesus. That’s an actual day?” How did she get so lucky to marry this man? “You are the best husband ever.”

Dmitry pulled the shower curtain back and hoisted her up again. She bit back a moan as his skin brushed against her still-sensitive center.

“What can I say? My wife brings out the best in me.”

The hot water helped release the tension in her aching muscles. This man really was something else.

“Just know that your _wife_ has a fantastic memory and will be looking up when _Husband_ Appreciation Day is, Dima.”

His hand on her back dipped low and his fingers dug into her skin. He leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth – _tease_. Anya grabbed his face and pulled him back to her mouth.

“Can't wait, _wife_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. That was a doozy! Leave a comment with your thoughts!
> 
> Thanks for reading 💛💛💛


	4. National Good Neighbor Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-28-2020 National Good Neighbor Day!
> 
> How could I possibly pass up a Dimya Neighbor fic? 
> 
> This is just a tiny little bb one-shot, but it makes me smile every time I reread it, looking for typos.

“OPEN. UP.”

Anya groaned. That sounded like her sister and the very last thing she wanted to deal with in this moment was Angry Maria. She stretched, feeling all the aches in her muscles from the night before. The arm draped over her tightened, pulling her closer to the rumbling figure behind her.

“Shit. Who could that be this early in the morning?” His voice thick with sleep and Anya fought the urge to arch back into him. It should’ve been illegal for someone to _sound_ that hot this early.

“It sounds like my sister, Maria.” Anya rolled over, her sleepy partner maintaining his firm hold on her. At her words, Dmitry’s eyes shot open.

“Your _what_?”

The angry shouting continued outside his front door. Dmitry looked down to Anya, all messy hair and well-loved skin half-hidden by the blanket he’d thrown over them during the night. They’d never made it to his bedroom, but his couch had proven comfy enough.

“My sister. You know…the angry Russian lady that introduced us when I moved in?”

His eyes slid shut at the memory and he whispered against her forehead. “Should I answer it?”

Anya leaned into his lips and threw her bare leg over his hip. “Hmmm. Should is a very ambiguous term, Dima…”

Really, she wanted nothing more than to pull him towards his bedroom and forget about the protective mama bear of a sister on the other side of the door. If she played her cards right, she might be able to convince him to pretend like no one was home.

“I WILL BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR IF YOU DON’T OPEN IT RIGHT NOW.”

“Shit. Yeah, you should answer it. I’ll go hide in your room.” She left a lingering kiss on his lips, a promise of what was to come if he’d only get rid of their pesky interruption first. Anya wrapped the blanket around her naked shoulders and stood to go find a safe hiding spot, but Dmitry pulled her back to gather her in his arms.

His hand slid up her thigh under the blanket – the damn tease – as he whispered in her ear, “I won’t keep you waiting long, I promise.”

Fully-flustered now, Anya shoved him towards his door and the Angry Romanov waiting for him. If he wasn’t quick about this, he’d have two Angry Romanovs to deal with…

Unfortunately for the two of them – and Anya’s desire to get Dmitry out of his shorts and in his bed with her – she didn’t make it to a hiding spot before the front door burst open.

“ANASTASIA NIKOLAEVNA ROMANOV. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DELIVER THE GOOD NEIGHBOR DAY TREATS AND THEN COME HOME. NOT FUCK OUR NEIGHBOR.”

“If it matters – it was a pretty good treat?” Dmitry, the poor, beautiful idiot, stood helplessly by his now-broken door.

Maria Romanov rounded on him, spitting venom. “YOU STAY OUT OF THIS, SUDAYEV.”

Anya rolled her eyes. This had certainly devolved into pure chaos and she would be damned if she missed out on more Naked Hot Neighbor Time because her sister decided to be a prude.

“Maria. Bestest Sister in the whole world. I love you.” Anya grabbed her sister’s hand, careful to keep her other hand grasping the blanket tightly around her. “I promise you can give me the full Responsible Choices lecture later today and I will be utterly captivated by your wisdom…”

Maria narrowed her eyes, not liking where this was going. “But…?”

“But right now I need you to leave so I can go fuck Dmitry’s brains out. Ok? Ok. I love you. You’re the best. Goodbye!” She turned her sister around and gently pushed her back out the door.

“You’re lucky I love you, Anastasia, or I would be calling Tatiana and Olga!” Maria shot one last glare at her before giving Dmitry the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

Once she was gone, Dmitry managed to shut the door again, but the lock was definitely broken.

“She wasn’t lying about breaking the door down…” Dmitry still seemed a bit stunned at the direction their morning had gone. “Who are Tatiana and Olga?”

Anya shuddered at the mention of her two eldest sisters. “Let’s just say we’re lucky it was Maria and not them. Now. Enough talk about other Romanov women. Introduce me to your bed.”

She dropped the blanket from around her and grinned devilishly as Dmitry’s eyes raked over her. She gave his ass a quick swat and then he was dragging her into his room.

“Just for argument’s sake…what exactly was in this Good Neighbor treat bag you were supposed to give me? I feel like I might’ve gotten robbed.”

_Someone should really wipe that smirk off of his face._

“Well if you’re that upset about what you got…I can always go see if Vaganov in 206 would be interested in trading…?”

Dmitry growled, eyes flashing, and dug his fingers into her hips. “You don’t play fair, woman.”

“I’m just saying…if you’d rather have a bag of candy instead of all of _this_ –” She gestured to her naked, love-bite covered body, “I’m sure there’s someone who – _DMITRY_!”

He’d apparently had enough with her teasing and hauled her up against him, wrapping her legs around his hips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Miss Romanov. What kind of Good Neighbor would I be if I didn’t reciprocate the wonderful gift you brought me?”

His lips found that spot behind her ear and any smart retort died with her moan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a few hours early because I have homework to do tomorrow...lolz
> 
> I love these idiots and it brings me so much joy to write about them and share it all with you!
> 
> Leave a comment if that's your thing! 
> 
> Thank you 💛💛💛


	5. National Coffee Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently it's National Coffee Day, so I think I'm legally obligated to post a Dimya fic? Is that right?
> 
> Just your usual crack-fluff first date fic from yours truly 💛

The date had been almost perfect. Anya’s skepticism at being set up by one of her sisters was barely contained as she waited at the restaurant for this “Dmitry” fellow. Maria had assured her that this man was perfect for her and she should trust her.

Dmitry ended up being twenty minutes late. Anya was just about to flag down the waiter for the check for her wine when a tall, very handsome man strolled up to her table. Windswept chestnut hair – that Anya definitely did _not_ want to run her fingers through – and a dazzling smile accompanied his apology for the delay.

“I’m so sorry. I got caught up at work and then missed my train. I’m Dmitry.” He held out his hand for her to take and she tried in vain to ignore the warmth that spread through her when she slid her hand in his.

He appeared genuine in his apology, but that didn’t stop her need to get in a subtle dig.

“You’re just lucky this wine is worth savoring.” She twirled the remnants in her glass and shot him a look as she sipped away.

Dmitry quirked a brow and replied with cool disinterest. “If you’d prefer to continue your evening as is, I’d be happy to leave you be.”

He raised to leave and Anya immediately felt guilty for her snark.

“No, please stay. I’m sorry, I sometimes speak before I think.”

To her delight, Dmitry smiled at that and sat back down. A part of her wondered if he would have actually followed through on his threat and left. His eyes appeared to twinkle with mischief at some unspoken memory.

“Maria did mention you could be brutally honest.”

Their waiter arrived then to take their orders, providing a break in conversation. When they were left alone again, Anya couldn’t help but lean in with interest.

“So. What else did my lovely sister tell you about me? Must’ve been something good to convince you to meet my brash self.” If it had been anyone else sitting across from her, Anya would’ve hoped to have them squirming with discomfort.

Again though, Dmitry surprised her. His eyes flashed, lips twitching up in a devilish grin. “She said you’d give as good as you’d get.” She fought the internal groan at that. Of course Maria would make her sound like some bully looking for a fight. Dmitry sensed her unease and further clarified his words.

“I’m pretty sure she has some kind of pool going with your siblings about the outcome of this date. I overheard her on the phone saying something along the lines of ‘They’ll either kill each other or be married by the end of the year.’”

And oh, how she wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face. But he wasn’t entirely far off. Anya was very much aware of her willfulness and tenacity. It had turned many suitors off over the years. Apparently though, her sister thought that Dmitry could stand a chance with her.

She wasn’t entirely wrong, though. Throughout dinner, Dmitry challenged her, but in a respectful way. She’d had plenty of dates with egotistical maniacs, hellbent on breaking her with their control. Dmitry was a different breed of man. He asked questions that provided depth to their conversations. When she’d try to play off something that she’d done as not a big deal, he’d stop her and assure her just how amazing she was.

Dmitry wasn’t lacking himself, either. His passion for his work and those that he cared about excited her. Most of the men she’d been set up with were cut from the same traditionally wealthy cloth. They were all very full of themselves and they loved to flaunt their success. Dmitry worked for every single opportunity he’d been given and he had a quiet confidence about himself. His eyes held a sincerity that captivated her and it didn’t take long for her to wonder why her sister had waited so long to set this up.

Once their check was paid and their coats collected, Dmitry offered to walk her home. Anya eagerly accepted, as she dreaded this evening drawing to a close. He held his arm out for her to take and again she was struck by how warm he was. The late September air had a chill to it, so she used that as an excuse to lean into him. Dmitry smiled into her hair at her not-so-subtle move, but she refused to feel any shame in it.

Anya might’ve gotten them purposefully lost in an attempt to lengthen her time with Dmitry. They walked for probably a half hour, content with the quiet small talk they managed around the bustling city streets. He finally commented on passing the same coffee shop for the third time before Anya finally admitted to her scheme. Blushing furiously, she steered them in the correct direction of her apartment and hoped he wouldn’t mention this to Maria.

As they neared her building, time seemed to slow. She hadn’t noticed they’d stopped walking altogether until Dmitry turned to face her.

“So. We’re here.” He slid his hand down to lace their fingers together. Anya gave a light squeeze back in acknowledgement.

“We’re here…” She didn’t know where exactly to look. If she met his eyes, she would be locked in a trance and unable to say goodbye. But if she let her eyes drift, she’d catch sight of his lips, an option that held only temptation and danger. Instead, she settled on staring at their feet, feeling very much like a nervous, lovesick teenager again.

_And it was only their first date…_

Dmitry’s hand rested against her cheek, causing her to finally meet his eyes.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you goodnight, Anya?” His whisper was so quiet, she almost wondered if she’d imagined it.

She giggled, feeling completely foolish but oh so happy. “Please do.”

If she’d thought she felt warmth before just from shaking his hand and holding his arm as they walked, she’d been sorely mistaken after experiencing Dmitry’s lips against hers. There was a spark as they met and Anya felt as if flames were taking over her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, scraping her nails gently against his skin and Dmitry wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her firmly against him.

He was the first to break, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. He looked so adorably happy with his eyes closed, enjoying being wrapped up in one another. Anya decided to take a risk and tease him a bit more.

“So did Maria also mention to you my love of obscure holidays?” Her hands had moved to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

Dmitry’s confusion was evident, so she pressed on. “Today is National Coffee Day, and I don’t know about you, but passing that coffee shop got me thinking…”

Catching on to her hidden meaning, Dmitry’s hands tightened around her waist. “Is that so?”

“Would you like to come in…for some coffee?” Anya’s teeth tugged on her bottom lip, revealing her nerves.

“I would love to. Coffee sounds perfect right about now.” He released her from his hold, lacing their fingers together again and gestured for her to lead the way. “After you, milady.”

The next day, as Anya texted her siblings from the comfort of her bed, she could barely contain her laughter at Maria’s cluelessness.

 **Maria:** But I don’t understand…you don’t drink coffee? You hate the taste. I didn’t think you even kept it in your apartment!

 **Olga:** Oh, sweet Masha. You’re too pure for this world.

 **Tatiana:** Who wants to tell her? Can I do it?

 **Alexei:** THEY FUCKED I WIN THE POOL HAHAHA!!!

Anya felt an arm circle around her bare skin and pull her back against a solid frame. Dmitry kissed his way up the curve of her neck before whispering in her ear.

“What’s so funny this early in the morning?”

“You were right about the pool. Alexei apparently won.” She typed out a quick response to her siblings and then threw her phone aside to turn her attention to the disheveled man in her bed.

 **Anya:** I will celebrate holidays however I deem appropriate. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to continue enjoying the celebration with my coffee. Goodbye :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?
> 
> 💛💛💛


	6. National Boyfriend Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> National Boyfriend Day - 10.3.20
> 
> It's also Derek Klena's birthday & Mean Girls Day. Like...is this a fanfic writer's dream come true???
> 
> A cute love declaration for our two idiots.

Vlad called him around 11:30. Anya had been at the bar since dinner and she was well-past her limit by now. He’d tried to cut her off multiple times, but she was rather mean when she was drunk. Dmitry shrugged his jacket over his shoulders and made his way from his apartment to the Neva Club, trying to temper his frustrations with the turn of events.

Anya rarely let herself get out of control. She’d normally get a little crazy when out with her sisters, but he knew for a fact they all had their own plans for this chilly fall Saturday evening. He’d overheard something about “Boyfriend Day,” followed by uncontrollable giggles, before Alexei had thankfully changed the subject. Anya had been rather quiet that afternoon, but had assured him she was fine.

Something must’ve been up for her to be drunk enough that Vlad would call him.

Sure enough, as soon as he entered the club his eyes zeroed in on his beautiful best friend, arms thrown around some hulking form next to the pool tables. Anya was whispering something into the man’s ear, causing him to smirk wickedly at her and Dmitry felt the jealousy bubble in his chest.

_Calm down._

His rational side knew that he had no reason to go all caveman. Anya was a gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious woman and any person would be lucky to win her affections. He was just the loser best friend that was sent to rescue her from her impulsiveness. Anya caught sight of him as he made his way across the bar and groaned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he watched her mentally prepare to argue with him. She never made anything in his life easy…

“Come on, Nastya. Let’s get you home.” He reached for her hand, but she yanked it away.

“Did Vlad call you?? That traitor!” She glared daggers at the man behind the bar, but he just shook his head and laughed at Anya’s antics. Although she could be mean, she was about as intimidating as a kitten. “I’m not going home with you, because Gleb said he’d take him home.”

“Who?”

“My new boyfriend! He’s very nice and handsome. He showed me how to play pool earlier and then he said he’d take me back to his place and we’d be able to talk more.”

“Did he now?” Dmitry tried to keep his voice neutral as the other man introduced himself, handshake firm in an attempt to intimidate him.

 _Ha._ Try being surrounded by four Romanov sisters and then talk to him about intimidation.

“Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, Anya is going home now. She’ll call you tomorrow after she sleeps off this hangover.” Dmitry remained firm and watched as Gleb realized he would not be winning this argument and raised his hands in surrender.

“Dima! You don’t get to tell me what to do!” Anya stamped her foot in her annoyance with him. It would’ve been hilarious if he wasn’t still reeling from seeing her with another man.

“Nastya, you’re drunk. You don’t know this man. Let me get you home and you can call him tomorrow.”

He could tell she wanted to say something, probably a smart retort, but thankfully she bites her tongue. A miracle, really, because even sober Anya needed to get the last word in with him. She kissed Gleb on the cheek and promised to reach out to him tomorrow, completely missing the way Dmitry’s jaw clenched at the sight. She was really pushing him tonight.

The walk to her apartment was tense. They didn’t say anything the entire way. He could see Anya wrap her arms around herself from the corner of his eye and he wondered momentarily if she was cold. She apparently had been of sound enough mind at the start of her evening to bring a jacket, but the crisp air seemed to be getting to her. Normally, he’d wrap his arm around her and hug her close, sharing his warmth with her. Tonight though, he felt the heavy weight of the space between them on his heart.

Anya was always touching him in some way, shape or form. They’d been best friends for as long as he could remember, but Anya was a very physical person. She drew comfort from holding hands and warm embraces. He’d lost count of how many times she’d fallen asleep against him during the Romanov’s weekly movie nights. Her physical affection increased tenfold when she’d drink. Cheek kisses and wandering hands in less-than-platonic places were a normal thing for intoxicated Anya, but tonight she kept her distance. Not even their shoulders brushed as they walked up the stairs to her front door. It was a sign that something serious must’ve been bothering her.

Dmitry managed to get her to drink some water and into bed without much trouble. She still seemed pretty far gone, but she was at least agreeable with his instructions. He pulled the blankets up around her and brushed the loose hair from out of her face. If he was a stronger man, he might’ve been able to ignore the rush of feelings he got from just looking at her. She drove him crazy with her antics, but he loved her so much it hurt. He tried to focus on the fact that she was now home safe. That could be enough.

“Why don’t you like me?”

It was so quiet, he thought he’d misheard her.

“What?”

“Why don’t you like me, Dima?” She sounded so small and vulnerable, head peeking out of the blanket cocoon they’d created for her.

“What are you talking about, Nastya? You’re my best friend. I love you.” His heart wanted to say so much more, but confessing his feelings to her when she wouldn’t remember it in the morning would only cause him pain.

Anya hiccupped and he realized with a guilty pang that she had started crying.

“Then why don’t you want me? I just want to kiss you and hug you and love you all the time and celebrate stupid holidays like my sisters do with their boyfriends but you don’t want that.” She sniffled and made to grab some Kleenex from her nightstand, but knocked the box over. The tears came harder now. “Gleb would’ve been fine with that, but you wouldn’t let me go home with him.”

“…Anya…”

The use of her given name upset her more. He never called her Anya when it was just the two of them. She was always his _Nastya_ , just like he was only Dima to her.

“I just want to be wanted, but you don’t want me and I’m - ”

He kissed her quiet, not quite realizing what he was doing until he was melting against her lips. She eagerly returned his kiss, pushing up against him in a way that was so _her._ She was always fighting him, it seemed. He pulled away and tried to hide his laughter as he watched her try to catch up.

It wasn’t how he’d imagined their first kiss – and _oh_ how he’d spent many hours imagining it – but he couldn’t help himself. Not when she was saying such crazy things.

How could she think he didn’t _want_ her?

“You just kissed me.” Anya’s eyes were as big as saucers, still in disbelief of the situation at hand.

“Yes.” And he wanted to do it again, but he’d wait until he had her permission, now.

“Why.” 

“Because I wanted to. Is that okay?” She’d said she wanted to love him, but he still felt the nerves and anxiety eat away at him.

“But you don’t want me like that.”

“Where in the world did you get an idea like that?” Everyone. Literally everyone in his life made it a point to ridicule him for being a lovesick fool.

“Tatiana kept teasing me…She said if you wanted me, you’d have made a move by now. But you haven’t, so you clearly don’t want me.”

Dmitry groaned. Of course Tatiana was behind all of this. She was the least patient of Anya’s siblings and regularly threatened to tell Anya of his feelings if he wouldn’t do it himself.

“I’m an idiot, Nastya.” She giggled at his jab, tears drying against her cheeks. “I want you so much I can’t think straight most days.”

“…Really?” She sat up as fast as she could, but fell back against the pillows in misery. “Are you sure this isn’t just a drunk dream and I’ll wake up tomorrow and you will hate me?”

“I could never hate you, Nastya.” Her hand reached out to grab his, squeezing tightly. “It’s not how I pictured telling you…but you’re…I…I love you. More than anything. I want to be the one you kiss. The one you date and fall in love with. Not some meathead you found at the Neva Club.”

He pulled their hands up to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles softly. Anya continued to hiccup, but luckily had stopped crying.

“Will you…will you tell me that again in the morning?”

“I’ll tell you it as many times as you want.”

“Good.” She closed her eyes and snuggled into the warmth of her bed. “Will you do me a favor, Dima?”

He’d do just about anything she ever asked of him, but sure, he’d humor her. “Of course.”

“Will you stay the night?”

He debated for about half a second, almost pinching himself to prove this was in fact real. It sure seemed like today had turned into his birthday. Maybe all of those birthday wishes were finally being cashed in…

“Good luck getting me to ever leave again.”

“Oh thank goodness. You’re so warm and I’m _freezing._ Now get under the covers and warm me up.”

“As my princess commands me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! 
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always 💛💛💛


	7. Come & Take It Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10.6.2020
> 
> Who knew there was a holiday called Come & Take It???? 
> 
> Not me, but it's perfect for a little bit of Dimya smut/fluff.

Dmitry always hated these stupid work trips. He tried to limit them to only absolutely extreme situations, but Vlad had been insistent that he needed Dmitry’s charm for this trip.

He loosened the tie from around his neck and popped onto the starchy bed, wondering if Anya was still awake this late. Others might’ve thought him pathetic, unable to go a day or two without seeing his wife, but he and Anya had always been happiest when together.

“Your feet are always pointing towards her. It’s insane, Dmitry.” Their friend, Marfa, had remarked one night. “It’s like you’re an Anya Magnet. She’s not going anywhere, I promise.”

Not that he thought she would up and disappear…but there was no comparison between a lonely hotel room and their bed back home. Luckily, FaceTime exists, otherwise he’d probably just mope and wallow in his angst.

Anya didn’t answer at first, which shouldn’t have been worrisome, but with his emotions running high from the separation, he couldn’t ignore the racing of his heart.

His phone rang suddenly, bringing him back before he could fully descend into madness. Anya’s cheeks sport a healthy flush and she had on a silky midnight robe that he hadn’t seen before. His attention now piqued; he enjoys the show Anya provided as she laid back against the pillows. The robe slipped down her shoulder, revealing bare, creamy skin.

“I’m sorry, Dima. I was in the bath when you called first.” Her voice sounded so relaxed and content – the exact opposite of how he felt at the moment.

“That sounds like a nice evening, Nastya. I like the attire…is it new?”

Anya must’ve realized that he was eyeing her bare skin. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the silk, sending him into a trance as they slid up and down, caressing skin he’d long since memorized.

“It is. I needed a little cheering up and my usual serotonin provider is out of town.” Her tone was teasing and suggestive.

“Well it looks very nice. I’m sorry I’m gone. I wish I was there to fully appreciate it. I doubt FaceTime does it justice.” What he’d give to be home with her now…

“When will you be back again?” Anya did her best to act disinterested, but he knew her better. She missed him just as much as he missed her.

“Flight gets in Friday night. I’ve got two meetings tomorrow and then Vlad is making us go out to dinner Thursday.” He found himself repeatedly cursing his friendship with the older man, especially as Anya continued to move just enough to cause the enticing fabric to dip in certain places.

“I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with this big bed all by myself for that long…”

“You won’t have anyone to kick in the shins, that’s for sure.”

Anya laughed at that, beautiful and melodious. God, he wanted to be there to make her laugh more. He wanted to trail his lips over all that bare skin to see what spots made her giggle and what spots made her eyes roll back.

(He already knew them like the back of his hand…but it was still one of his favorite past times.)

“I also won’t have anyone to keep me warm.” She shot him a reproachful look and were he not so preoccupied with her skin, he might’ve had the decency to be properly chastised.

“You could always try putting on more clothing…” But really, that would be counterproductive to the mood they’d created in the short time they’d been on the phone.

“Oh I was wearing one of your sweatshirts earlier. But you know me…” Anya gathered her hair and pinned it on top of her head. Now his focus has moved to the naked curve of her neck and he tried to drown out the voice in his head that told him to book the soonest plane home – Vlad be damned.

“I like to think I know you, yes.”

“Then you know. I much prefer my _husband_ to keep me warm in bed. Not clothes.”

The tie to her robe loosened as she slid under the covers and he fought back a groan. Her legs a tempting sight. She was trying to kill him, surely.

“Nastya…you’re making this much harder than it needs to be…” His voice dropped an octave, laced with innuendo. He tried to adjust himself without her noticing, but his clever little wife knew exactly what she was doing.

“Me? You’re the one that decided you need to leave me here all alone…wanting and waiting…It’s very inconsiderate of you, Dima.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, Nastya?” He hoped she tell him to come home. He knew he’d pack his bags in an instant if she asked him to.

Instead, she finished untying the robe, sliding it from her and tossing it somewhere across the room.

“Come and take me, Dima.”

Dmitry groaned as Anya hung up on him. That damn tease wife of his. He sent a quick text message to Vlad, claiming an emergency at home, knowing full well he wouldn’t believe him anyways.

He’d deal with that later.

Throwing his things back into his suitcase, Dmitry dialed the cab company and did a quick scan of his room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

* * *

Anya’s dream had taken the most wonderful turn. Rough hands dug into her waist as lips pressed lightly behind her ear. She arched into the dream, only to be ripped from it by a deep growl. The hands on her waist pulled her back against a hard, warm form.

“Don’t start things you aren’t willing to finish, Nastya.”

“Dmitry Sudayev!! You did NOT ditch Vlad?!” She did her best to sound outraged with him, but her body betrayed her. She was _very_ happy to have him back in their bed and he knew it, the smug bastard.

“I absolutely did. There were more important matters to tend to at home.” He hovered above her now, a predatory look in his eyes.

“Well what are you waiting for?” Anya looped her arms around his neck and tugged him to her lips. “Come and take me.”

“I’ll make you regret those words, _Wife_.”

“Ha! Do your worst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment if that's your thing 💛💛💛
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. National Motorcycle Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10.10.20 - National Motorcycle Day
> 
> Little bit of Aladdin undertones...little bit of What a Girl Wants vibes...
> 
> It's fluff. Enjoy!

Dmitry fought back a groan of frustration as he gripped the handles of his motorcycle. With the crowds on the sidewalks spilling onto the street, he was stuck with no place to go. This blasted country and its idiotic monarchy. Every time the Royal Family felt the need to go out for a ride and ego boost, the damn city almost shut down in chaos and excitement.

The commotion ahead of him – shouting and people packing further onto the streets – overwhelmed him. Just as he was about to scream himself, a tiny woman in a dress like sunshine appeared before him, desperation in her eyes.

“Can you get me out of here?”

He took a moment to observe the woman. She clearly came from the wealthy side of the city, if the pearl earrings and necklace were anything to go off of. Her chest rose and fell dramatically and she looked well-spooked, to say the least. Perhaps it was that damn bleeding heart of his, but he nodded at her before he quite knew what he was doing. Dmitry gestured for her to hop on and she grabbed the spare helmet on the back. He waited for her to secure her arms arounds his waist – he ignored the swooping in his stomach – and revved the engine.

The crowd broke and Dmitry took his shot. They flew through the masses of people, some jumping back with a scream, but the mystery woman just tightened her hold on him.

They wound through the streets until they were well out of the city. The countryside really was one of Dmitry’s favorite places. He wished he’d make more of a point to ride out here – especially if it meant a pretty woman accompanied him.

Said passenger seemed to relax the further they drifted from the city. Her arms were less like a vice grip around him now, but she leaned heavily against him.

He slowed as they came upon a small village of sorts. The tiny café he saw on the corner would be the perfect spot to catch their breaths and figure out their next move. He made a mental note to make sure to ask the woman her name at his earliest convenience.

He brought them to a stop and kicked the stand into place. The woman finally let go of him – he definitely didn’t miss her arms around him – and they removed their helmets. She slid off the back of the motorcycle and shook her hair free. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but she really was lovely, even with helmet hair.

His arm acted without his mind’s consent and reached across to tuck a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear. They both froze for a moment – Dmitry scolded himself for his carelessness – and then she looked down at their feet, flush covering her pretty cheeks.

“I’m uh, I’m Dmitry, by the way.” He should’ve started with the introduction instead of just assuming he could touch her…

“Nice to meet you, Dmitry. I’m Ana- I’m Anya.” She reached to shake his hand and he was struck by how soft hers was. His own hand was covered with callouses and dirt from constant use and the ride. Quite the contrast between the two of them…

“Um…so. Mind telling me why you jumped on the back of a complete stranger’s motorcycle?” Not that he was complaining. This day of his had taken quite a pleasant turn.

She looked embarrassed for a moment and bit her lip.

“I just needed to get away for a bit. It probably wasn’t the smartest decision…I mean I don’t know you…but for some reason I thought I could trust you.”

“Well. How about we get a quick bite to eat and then maybe we can make a plan from there?” Anya nodded and allowed him to usher her to the entrance. Before he could open the door, though, she turned back into him and whispered hurriedly into his ear.

“Can we sit towards the back? Please?”

Dmitry found that a bit odd, but then again Anya had been spooked by the large crowd within the city. Perhaps she wasn’t as relaxed as he’d thought. He gave her a reassuring smile, dropped his hand to the small of her back to guide her towards the back. Instead of flinching away from him, she again relaxed under his protective gesture.

For the most part, they ordered and ate in relative normalcy. Well, as normal as they could get from knowing each other a handful of hours. Anya was a rather interesting person to be around. She told stories of siblings that were always getting into trouble with her and various adventures she’d take through their home’s gardens. He didn’t ask what had led her to approach him in the crowds, but the weight of it did hang in the air around them. Not one to monopolize the conversation, Anya asked him all about his life – his family and friends, what he did, how he liked to spend his time – and listened to his answers with rapt attention.

He didn’t usually open up to people – especially people he’d just met – but Anya had a way of pulling the answers from him. She was just…so _easy_ to talk to. If he had to guess how she did it, he’d have to say it was the sincerity she held in those crystal blue eyes of hers. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.

Dmitry couldn’t help but pick up on the occasional glances some of the other patrons would try throw at them, though. Anya did stick out a bit with her fancy dress and jewels, but he had hoped people would have the decency to keep to themselves.

That hope was completely squashed when a young girl, probably not much older than seven, approached their table.

“Excuse me, but are you one of those princesses?” Her eyes were as big as saucers and she looked so excited at the thought of seeing a woman like Anya in real life.

“Oh! Um…” Anya looked at him worriedly, but he nodded at her to humor the little girl. “Yes. Yes I am. My name is Anastasia. What’s yours?”

“I’m Malia! I thought I recognized you! You’re so beautiful and I had hoped we’d get to see you in today’s parade, but Mama wouldn’t let us go. She’d said it would be too many people. But you’re actually here!” The little girl seemed to vibrate with her energy.

Anya blushed under the attention, but took it in stride. It must’ve been something she had happen quite often. She asked if the little girl would like to have her mother take their photo, which clearly made the little girl’s life.

After, Anya whispered in his ear – he was beginning to really enjoy feeling her breath against his skin – if they could leave sooner rather than later. He took care of their check and then they slipped out the door before more patrons could grow brave enough to approach them.

“Alright. Where to now, Princess Anya?” Anya giggled and his heart warmed at the sound. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this mystery woman just yet, but they had been gone for quite some time.

“I should probably go back home…” Anya fiddled with her necklace and seemed nervous at his reaction. Deciding to tease her in an effort to see a smile or maybe get another giggle from her, Dmitry bumped his hip into hers.

“And that would be the palace, apparently?”

Anya whipped her head to look up at him, worry again lacing her beautiful face.

“…You’re not mad…are you?”

“…Wait. You weren’t just humoring that little girl in there?” How had he not noticed…

“No, Dmitry, I wasn’t. I’m the Grand Duchess Anastasia…”

The helmet in his hands fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I just…I needed to get out of there and I didn’t know where to go and then you were just… _there_.”

“I kidnapped a Grand Duchess…” He was going to be arrested. The Tsar was going to have his head for this, he just knew it.

“ You did not kidnap me! I left of my own accord!” Anya – or Anastasia, really – stomped her foot in the dirt and he almost laughed. Almost.

“I doubt your father – _the Tsar_ – would see it that way, Anya. Anastasia. I don’t even know what to call you!?” He threw his hands up in frustration and then tugged on his hair. This was not what he needed…

“That’s exactly why I had to get away! I can’t stand being only Anastasia! I’m a human being, not a show dog! And to think, I thought maybe you – you know what, never mind! I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll find my own way back home.” She started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards his bike.

“…you thought what, exactly?” He should’ve known better than to be hopeful. She was a Grand Duchess, and Grand Duchesses didn’t wallow with regular people like him.

“I thought you might actually like me for who I am, not _what_ I happened to be born into! I thought this could last longer than just an afternoon in the countryside! I thought you were handsome and I liked you and you wouldn’t tuck tail and run as soon as you found out about my family!”

The only thoughts that ran through his mind as he palmed the back of her head and brought her lips against his was how beautiful she looked when she was angry and yelling at him. That, and if he was going to be arrested for kidnapping a Grand Duchess, he might as well find out what it was like to kiss one.

Anastasia – _Anya,_ he firmly reminded himself – melted against him. She threaded her fingers threw his hair and held him in place. A noise tried to escape his throat and he felt Anya’s smile against him. When she finally allowed them to break for air, he couldn’t open his eyes, for fear that this was all some wonderful dream that would end as soon as he did.

“Well…if my father wasn’t going to have you arrested before…you’re not doing yourself any favors…”

His eyes flew open to see Anya looking up at him teasingly. He groaned again, but this time for a very different reason.

“I’m only joking. I would hate for my new _friend_ to disappear under mysterious circumstances…”

His hands, which had landed on her waist at some point, tightened.

“Enough from you. Let’s get you home before they send out the Royal Guard after me. And watch those hands on the way back, Your Highness. It wouldn’t do for me to crash my motorcycle because a Grand Duchess is feeling frisky.”

“I make no promises, Dmitry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading 💛💛💛


	9. Boss's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boss's Day - 10.16.20
> 
> Anya runs part of the family business. Dmitry is her employee. 
> 
> FLUFF ENSUES.

Romanov Vineyards had been a part of Anya’s family for generations. She couldn’t remember which distant relative purchased the land first, but it was probably some Paul or Peter or whatever. Her grandmother would be so disappointed Anya wasn’t more knowledgeable with their family tree, but really. It’s not as if knowing which long-dead man bought the land would help her do her job better.

Growing up, all of her siblings worked in various roles throughout the vineyard. Anya probably learned to walk amongst the rows and rows of vines, if she had to put money on it. Her parents built the winery and the tasting room when Anya was sixteen. She had loved getting to help in the kitchens and set up for events like weddings and tasting parties, and gradually worked her way up the chain of command. While her siblings left to pursue other opportunities outside of the wine business, Anya went and got her degree in Business Management.

Now at 28, she managed the entire tasting room herself. Business had grown over the years and they’d been able to hire on several staff members to help juggle the crazy weekends that were jam packed with events. She’d built a pretty decent team, if she took a minute to brag about herself.

Lily and Vlad were an older couple that were her best waitstaff she'd ever had. They loved to spend hours on end entertaining the tables and chatting about the various wines available at the moment. They could be a little overbearing, but they had their regulars that came in each Sunday eager to socialize with the pair.

Gleb was her quiet, almost angry, chef. He rarely ever left his post in the kitchen, preferring instead to work in solitude. Even when things would get hectic, he refused to let anyone – even Anya – back to assist him. She’d do her best to humor him, but she would occasionally butt in to help with the charcuterie boards and other “easy” appetizers. He’d glare daggers at the back of her head, but she’d politely remind him that she signed his paycheck and encouraged him to focus on his pastries and sandwiches, otherwise she’d come help with those as well.

That usually cooled his rage for a bit.

And then there was Dmitry…

How could she possibly put into words what Dmitry was?

He ran the bar with her. He proved to be quite talented at guessing exactly which wine a person would favor just by looking at them. Dmitry was also insanely good at getting customers to buy more wine and food. No one stood a chance against his charming smile and twinkling eyes.

She suspected a large portion of their client base also enjoyed watching the way his arms would flex as he’d open bottles to serve. She’d seen on more than one occasion a group order a second and third bottle almost immediately after Dmitry opened their first.

Changing the staff uniforms to black button-downs was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

She and Dmitry got along pretty well…for the most part. It was difficult to work in such close proximity to one another and not butt heads occasionally, but there was some kind of tension between the two that Anya couldn’t quite name.

Ok…maybe she had some idea…

The important thing, she often had to remind herself, was that they worked _really_ well together. They always seemed to be engaged in some kind of dance behind the bar. They’d float around one another, never quite bumping into each other. That didn’t mean there wasn’t the stray brush of arms…or hips, which never failed to get a blush from Anya. She would tamp that down immediately though, because she was his _boss_ , not some random girl.

Normally, Fridays weren’t a busy day for them. They could usually get by with just Anya, Dmitry and Gleb on the clock, but today must’ve been a full-moon or something, because they got slammed with tables around 6pm and it didn’t stop until they closed at 10. If she had to make another charcuterie board, she was going to scream.

Finally though, they get through it and make it to close. The last slightly buzzed ladies’ group was ushered into their waiting Uber by a Dmitry with substantially less patience than usual. Anya overheard several propositions directed at him and couldn’t help but giggle as she fiddled with the door keys. As soon as he was back within the safety of the building – and away from inebriated cougars – Anya firmly locked the door and sighed in relief.

“You’re telling me. I’m going to need so much therapy to remove those women’s offers from my brain.” Dmitry grumbled as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work cleaning up the bar.

From the door, Anya could see Gleb finishing up in the kitchen. He was always very efficient with his closing duties, rarely sparing them a second glance or a goodbye before ducking out the back.

That was fine with her. She could more than handle the front end and honestly, Gleb would probably complicate things. Anya grabbed a rag from the sanitizer bucket and started to wipe down the tables, before Dmitry appeared at her side, snatching the towel away from her.

In his other hand were two clean glasses and a bottle of their sweetest wine – her favorite. Did he just grab a random bottle, or did he remember she only pretended to like all of the wines in front of customers?

“Cleaning can wait. Let’s go sit outside. It’s a nice night and I’m sure your feet are just as angry as mine are.”

He steered her to the outdoor fire pit, which they conveniently hadn’t gotten around to turning off just yet. The air has just enough of a chill to it that fire is a welcome addition. Dmitry slid two chairs closer together so they could pass the bottle back and forth without having to get up. At least…that was the reasoning Anya created in her head.

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to be drinking on the clock with one of my employees, Dmitry.” But she still plopped down into the chair, groaning in delight as she propped her feet up against the fire pit.

“I promise not to rat you out to HR, if it helps.” The teasing glint in his eyes unleashed countless butterflies in her stomach.

They were toeing a line with this. Anya needed to keep her head on straight and not do something that could get her into trouble – emotional or legal.

Dmitry poured them each a healthy glass and their fingers brushed just a slightly. Anya definitely did not look up and freeze when she realized he was staring at her with his own fire behind his eyes.

They relaxed into their seats and enjoyed the now calm evening. Sometimes she forgot just how beautiful the property was. She’d often go on and on to potential weddings about certain elements that would look amazing for photographs, but that was more a rehearsed speech. Sitting here – and perhaps it was the wine – she could finally take in the stars above and the sounds of the outdoors coming to life.

She really loved this place.

They stayed out on the patio for a while, drinking and enjoying each other’s company. It was just…so easy to talk to Dmitry. She’d tried to talk strictly about work, but he put a blanket ban on it.

“You live and breathe this place, Anya. It’s okay if you take a break for a bit.” Dmitry was always trying to get her to branch out of her comfort zone, she realized.

Wine bottle now over half-gone, conversation shifted towards their non-existent love lives.

Dmitry talked about his crazy roommates – Marfa, Dunya and Polly – and how they relentlessly worked to make his life insane. They’d set him up on several blind dates, but all ended in disaster. He finally had to tell them he didn’t have time to date with his work schedule – and he definitely glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, she was sure of it – before they backed off.

“Well you should’ve told them you have your pick of the lot that come in to the tasting room. You’ve got quite the fan club, Dmitry.”

He laughed, but his hand ran through his hair – she wondered if it was as soft as it looked – and blushed.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be asking any of those people out. Nor will I be accepting the…creative…offers I’ve been given.”

That brought a giggle to Anya’s lips. Dmitry really did get the short end of the stick.

“What about you? You’re young, successful, beautiful. I’m sure you have your own fan club eagerly awaiting your attentions.”

And _oh_. Dmitry thought she was beautiful? She wasn’t a vain person, but when Dmitry complimented her, she turned into a blushing schoolgirl.

“Ah…no. No dating for me. Just never really got around to it, I suppose.”

Really, no one seemed worth the effort. At least until recently…

No. She was his employer. She could not entertain such thoughts.

Deciding she’d had enough alcohol for one evening, Anya stood and announced they really needed to finish closing up. Dmitry shut off the fire pit and followed her back inside, sighing as he went.

Sometime later, Anya caught Dmitry’s eye as he’s cleaning and restocking the bar. She was almost finished sweeping, but his eyes blazed in the flickering candlelight she still needed to blow out.

“Is everything alright, Dmitry?”

He set down whatever he was working on and came over to where she was standing. He crowded her space and rested his hand over hers on the broom, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yeah…Just. Promise you won’t fire me?”

“Wha-“

But then he was kissing her and everything melted away. She’d never been kissed quite like this. She felt it all the way to the tips of her toes – which she had to stand up on to get a better angle at Dmitry and his delicious mouth. He growled against her lips and a hand landed on her hip to pull her closer.

She started to feel dizzy, whether from the refusal to part too long from him, or the wine, she wasn’t sure.

Then logic won out and she snapped back to reality; already chalking everything up to the wine they’d drunk.

“Dmitry…how much wine have you had to drink??”

He grinned down at her, all confident and sure of himself.

“Just enough to come to my senses and make a move, I promise you.”

“But…Oh my god. I’m your boss!” The panic set in, but still tightly pressed against Dmitry, his warmth so tempting and inviting, she couldn’t bear to step away.

“Well…I did tell you I wouldn’t rat you out to HR – who I’m pretty sure is just Maria, by the way – so as long as you promise not to fire me, I don’t see where the problem is.”

The laugh that escaped her could only be described as manic. Then her forehead was pressed against his chest as she tried to regain some semblance of control. This was all just so…ridiculously silly and perfect and so _them_ she wasn’t sure it was real at all.

“So.”

“Hmm?” She looked up from his chest to see that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes.

“What are the chances this goes on my next performance evaluation?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this lived up to the hype!! Thanks for reading💛
> 
> Let me know what you think?


	10. Boss's Day Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blame ivyrobinson...

“…You wanted to see us?”

Anya couldn’t help but feel like she’d been called to the principal’s office. She tried to keep her eyes forward and focused on her sister’s exasperated face, but she could see Dmitry straining to not burst out laughing in her peripheral.

Idiot. Beautiful, wonderful, idiot.

Her fingers ached to reach across the space between them and grab onto him for support, but she refrained.

“Yes. I received a rather concerning email from another employee regarding unprofessional workplace behavior. Specifically involving you two.”

Maria pointed at the pair for emphasis and Dmitry giggled – he actually fucking giggled – at Maria’s annoyed glare.

Anya shot him a look and turned back towards her sister…and technically boss. Maria had recently ditched her job at a multi-national corporation and came home to manage the HR aspects of the entire Romanov Vineyards operation. She mostly stayed well away from the tasting room affairs, trusting that Anya could handle things.

She should’ve known better…

“Look. I’m not going to do subtle with you. You’re both insane and there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to get me through this blatant disregard for HR policies…or basic health codes…”

She paused to collect herself, drawing in a deep breath and closing her eyes, willing herself to find patience.

“Did you really think it would be a good idea to fuck on the kitchen counter when literally _anyone_ could walk in on you?!”

Anya desperately wanted the ground to swallow her up. She’d told Dmitry it was a terrible idea at the time, but he’d been all charm and irresistibleness as he sat her on the prep counter. It would take someone much stronger than her to not give in to that.

Dmitry, however, appeared to feel no shame in their actions. If anything, he looked rather smug and proud of himself.

Bastard.

“With all do respect, Ms. Romanov – “ Charming idiot knew just what he was doing, addressing Maria professionally, despite having spent the holidays teaming up with her to torture Anya. “We did lock the door.”

“Which is why Gleb was able to open the door with no problem??”

“Ha! I knew it was him.”

“Dmitry!”

“I don’t want to hear anything else. It’s difficult enough having a. manager and direct subordinate in a romantic relationship. But you need to keep your private life – private. And off company property. Otherwise we’re going to have a lawsuit on our hands.”

Anya knew she was right and part of her did feel pretty ashamed she’d let her sense and logic leave her.

“I’m sorry, Maria. It won’t happen again.” She cut a look at Dmitry’s noise of disagreement. “And we’ll apologize to Gleb.”

“We will not!”

“ _Dima!_ ”

At the use of his secret nickname, he settled back in his seat and finally shut up. Maria seemed satisfied with their answer and excused them from her office.

“Behave you two…”

They walked back across the property to the tasting room, shoulders brushing. Dmitry grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together as soon as they were far enough from sight of the buildings.

“I rather like when you use your boss lady voice with me, you know.” He tugged her in front of him so he could wrap his arms around her, their steps slowing. “Especially when you call me Dima.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future when you try to talk me into workplace sex.”

“Hey now. If I remember correctly, someone enjoyed themselves _very much_.”

They had come to a full stop now, hidden amongst the rows of vines. Anya pressed her backside back into Dmitry and he groaned at the contact.

“If by someone, you mean you, the yes. I remember.” She turned in his arms and played with the hair that fell in his face. “Should I be concerned with your apparent need to claim me like a caveman around Gleb?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he still pouted at her, giving himself away.

“Dima…”

“He was staring at your ass!”

“And you don’t regularly do that?”

“That’s different. It’s my job to do that.”

“So your form of revenge was to fuck me, specifically in Gleb’s space?”

“You give me too much credit. I just saw a prime surface and took full advantage of it.”

“Well knock it off. You heard Maria. I’d hate to put you on a disciplinary action plan…” Her eyebrow raised in a teasing challenge. Sure enough, Dmitry whimpered and kissed her hard, his hands slipping under her shirt to caress her bare skin.

“If you’re trying to discourage me from doing it again, you’re going about this wrong.” He kissed the giggle from her lips. “I’d give just about anything for you to discipline me.”

Anya would’ve slapped his shoulder for being crude, but her hands were quickly occupied with other, more fun, activities.

He was such an idiot. Good thing she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just silly fun and I really needed to write this today. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Thank you for reading 💛


	11. National Throw Short People Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maia (@mxmtoon) posted this holiday on twitter and i couldn't NOT write this for "holidays with dimya"
> 
> 10-21-20
> 
> National Throw Short People Day
> 
> just plain silly fluff. absolutely zero plot. what are plots?

Being in love with an obnoxious giant oaf of a man really tested Anya.

Dmitry was many things; loving, attentive, thoughtful, witty, and incredibly good-looking to boot. He was her favorite person and she couldn’t imagine her life without him towering over her.

But if that stupid fucker kept picking her up and taking her wherever he wanted like she was his personal play thing, she was going to kill him. 

That or fuck him.

The jury in her head had deadlocked on its decision between the two.

It was actually the thing that catapulted their friendship into the romantic territory. Anya had gotten a bit mouthy at the bar and in order to save her – and himself – from an all-out brawl, Dmitry had thrown her over his shoulder, hand resting dangerously low on her back, and carried her from the bar, saluting the doorman as they passed.

By the time they were safely far enough from Anya going back to finish what she’d started, Dmitry sat her feet back on the ground.

“What makes you think you can just throw me around like a ragdoll, Dima?”

Even in her ire, though, she couldn’t ignore the want burning in her belly.

Instead of answering her, Dmitry kissed whatever annoyance she might have felt from her, lips proving _very_ persuasive in their argument for him.

The rest was pretty much history.

Seriously, though. The throwing had reached a point of ridiculousness. Anya could no longer be anywhere near a pool if Dmitry was in the same zip code. He always found her shriek of surprise – and really, she shouldn’t be surprised at this point – extremely hilarious.

One particularly memorable experience occurred when they were at the Romanov’s country home for the weekend. Anya and Dmitry had been tasked with raking the front yard which had been blanketed in reds, oranges and yellows. They’d almost finished with their project when Dmitry dropped his rake to the ground. Anya had looked up from the pile of leaves in front of her to see a wicked glint in Dmitry’s eyes.

“…Don’t you dare, Dima…”

The next thing she knew, she’d been lifted in the air and locked within Dmitry’s arms. He threw the both of them into the mountain of leaves they’d spent all morning building with a loud “Whoop!”

Anya emerged from the leaves, spluttering all the way. Dmitry’s head popped up and grinned mischievously at her

“Must you always act like an absolute child, Dmitry?”

“Awww, don’t be mad, Nastya. Jumping in a pile of leaves is the whole point of raking!”

“No, the point of raking is to remove the leaves from the yard.”

Dmitry climbed out of the pile, dusting himself off before bending down to kiss the frown that Anya fought to keep on her face.

She always failed at that with him.

Part of the problem was that Anya loved control. She’d grown up with an insanely overbearing family and she always balked against doing what others wanted. She preferred to make her own decisions and not let anyone tell her what to do.

Which was why her initial reaction to Dmitry’s nasty habit was full of fierce loathing. He never hurt her by any means. It was really more of Dmitry's way of communication when things would get sticky between the two. If she was being particularly stubborn – which happened quite often, okay? – he’d hoist her into his arms, sometimes throwing her over his shoulder, and then Anya would forget her anger.

She’d forget pretty much everything but Dmitry and his hands and low, throaty chuckle.

Damn him.

It was just _so difficult_. Anya hated how much she loved this caveman behavior of his. She hated even more that she’d begun to push Dmitry into doing it.

It was like a game now. She’d tease him relentlessly, trying to get him to snap. Anya always made sure to keep things creative, lest he figure out what she was about. She wasn’t sure she could survive his smugness if he did.

Today, she’d decided she’d gone long enough since the last game – about two days – and she could probably get away with it.

She plopped down on the sofa next to Dmitry with a dramatic sigh. He looked up from his phone, already suspicious of her.

“What’s up, Nastya?”

She signed again, falling back against the cushions. “I’m bored. You should entertain me.”

She poked him in the arm, trying not to think too hard about how _good_ and _strong_ those muscles were. The image of them flexed as they carried her wherever Dmitry pleased would forever be burned in her mind.

“You’re a big girl, Nastya. I’m sure you could find something productive to do.”

He went back to his phone and Anya scoffed.

“What kind of boyfriend are you? Is that phone really more interesting than your beautiful girlfriend?” Again, she poked his arm, although harder this time. She’d learned quickly that this action would escalate their situation to the desired outcome faster than anything else.

“I’m reading about the upcoming election, Nastya. I’ll be done in a bit and then I’ll entertain you.”

“Fine, fine. Read your politics.” She stood from the sofa and made her way towards the front door, adopting an overly lofty tone as she pulled out the big guns. “I’ll just go across the hall and see what Gleb is doing. He – ”

At the mention of his archnemesis, Dmitry threw his phone and crossed the room in three strides. Anya was up in his magnificent arms, laughing like mad the whole way.

Dmitry carried her into their bedroom and threw her on the bed. She bounced once and then he covered her with the length of him.

“I’m onto your games, you wicked, wicked woman.” His voice was a rumble, coming deep from his chest.

Anya hooked her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, preventing him from escaping.

“Then go back to your phone and I’ll go hangout with Gleb, Dima.”

Her lips were just a whisper from his before he closed the distance with a growl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think!
> 
> thanks for reading 💛


	12. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just fluffy crack with these two idiots that I love. 
> 
> Sorry, but ya girl doesn't do spooky/scary things.

Anya found Dmitry laying face-down on the floor of their living room, clearly in the middle of some kind of existential crisis.

“You alright there, Dima?”

Dmitry’s answering groan sounded like he’d been mortally wounded, but she knew that couldn’t possibly be the case. She’d stepped away for five minutes to take her sister’s call. It’s not like someone could’ve snuck in their living room window, attacked Dmitry, and then fled without her noticing.

And yet Dmitry claimed _she_ was the dramatic one in their relationship.

“Ok big man, roll over and tell me what’s going on.” She nudged his shoulder with her foot to speed up this conversation, but he just grabbed her ankle and let out another pathetic sound.

“I was gone for five minutes. What on earth could’ve soured your mood this much?”

“COVID has ruined what was easily the best day of the year – aside from our anniversary, of course.” Her idiot man made sure to shoot her a quick grin before going back to his misery and despair.

“I’m not following…”

“Halloween! Nastya! They’ve canceled Halloween and it’s my favorite holiday. Could this year get any worse?”

Dmitry finally rolled over, but threw his arm over his eyes dramatically, as if he couldn’t bear to see the offending air of 2020.

“Halloween is not canceled, Dima. They’ve just said no large parties and no trick-or-treating. You’re almost thirty…I hope you weren’t planning on going door-to-door for candy…”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Nastya!” Both of his arms now gestured wildly above him but his eyes remained clamped shut.

“Tell you what. Let’s have our own Halloween celebration, just the two of us.” She managed to grab one of his hands and clasped it tightly in both of hers. “We’ll have Halloween snacks, too much candy and wear costumes. Hell, I’ll even watch some of those God-awful scary movies you love.”

“It won’t be the same!”

Anya hummed to herself, quickly losing her patience with this man-child she called hers.

“I guess you don’t want to see my Halloween costume then…”

That got his attention.

Eyes finally opened; Dmitry turned to look at her with suspicious apprehension.

“Is it just your Big Bird onesie that you wore last year?”

She slapped his shoulder playfully. “You said you loved that costume!” At Dmitry’s pout, she bent down to kiss his forehead, putting as much tease and innuendo into her voice as she could.

“It’s not Big Bird, but I promise you, you’ll like it. _Marfa_ helped me pick it out.”

Marfa’s name peaked Dmitry’s interest. Their dear, sweet friend was known for talking Anya into wearing things that were so far out of her comfort zone. The chances of the costume being inappropriate for anyone but Dmitry to see grew exponentially with Marfa involved.

“Why don’t you go put it on and model it for me now?” Dmitry had rolled over on top of her, effectively pinning her hips beneath his.

“I’m afraid that’s against the rules, Dima. Halloween isn’t until tomorrow.”

Now Dmitry’s groan was more frustration than disappointment and Anya delighted in the mood shift.

“Fine. We’ll have our own party. But just so you know…clothing is optional at our celebration.”

Anya kissed his nose and then wriggled out from beneath him, much to his dismay.

“Oh I’ll be wearing clothing, Dima. Now I’m going to go order dinner. Try not to slip into madness while I’m gone.”

* * *

Anya secured her high ponytail into place before sliding on the delicate gold crown. All she needed to complete the look were the gold arm bands and slippers she’d hidden in the back of her closet.

She was already running out of time to fully surprise Dmitry. He was currently in the shower, so she’d need to hurry and sneak out of the apartment before he caught sight of her.

She just hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone else in the hallway…

Anya danced in the mirror as she made sure the flimsy bandeau top was secured and checked her reflection one last time.

When Marfa had suggested she go as a Disney Princess, Anya had been expecting something cute. Maybe she’d wear Belle’s blue dress or Aurora’s black and tan forest dress. Those were both within her wheelhouse of comfort and she thought she could pull them off.

She should’ve guessed Marfa would take things to a new level of insanity.

Dmitry’s favorite Disney movie had always been Aladdin. No matter how many times she tried to convince him that Tangled was by far superior, her handsome Slavic Idiot somehow saw himself in the Arabian street rat and refused to budge. They’d watched the movie more times than she could keep track of and she tried not to show her annoyance whenever Dmitry would quote the Genie’s lines.

Anya might’ve been more agreeable towards Jasmine’s normal blue harem-pants. At least that outfit’s top had straps…

Nope. Of course not. Marfa cackled at Anya’s reaction to the picture of the red costume she’d found on Etsy.

“Come on, Princess. You wear this and Dmitry’s heart will explode. So will his dick, but you get what I mean.”

“Marfa!” Anya attempted to scold her, but she secretly agreed. This would be the last thing Dmitry would expect her to wear.

Her friend’s voice filled her ear as she appraised herself in the mirror. The color really complimented her fair skin and strawberry blonde locks well. The pants weren't the most opaque and had slits on the side from the waist to her ankles, but she couldn't help but appreciate how _good_ she looked.

“You look hot as fuck and if Dmitry doesn’t want to hit that, you’re more than welcome to come to my apartment. I’ll show you a good time.”

Anya shook Marfa from her thoughts and grabbed her pumpkin basket before dashing out the front door. If she were lucky, Dmitry would think she was in the kitchen while he got dressed.

She stood outside of their apartment and tried to calm her racing heart. Resisting the urge to wipe her palms on the pants – the material was thin enough it likely wouldn’t help – Anya dialed Marfa quickly for a moment of encouragement.

“If you’re calling me already then clearly Dmitry is already dead. Do you need help moving the body?”

“Marfa! No one is dead! And no one will be dying tonight, ok?”

“Whatever you say, Princess. I take it Dmitry hasn’t seen you yet – because let’s be honest he wouldn’t be done with you yet – so what’s up?”

Anya huffed in exasperation, but tried to hide it. She needed Marfa’s confidence right now and she wouldn’t get it by sassing her.

“I’m in the hallway. I’m going to knock here in a few minutes. I just heard the shower stop…” She tilted her head back to rest against the wall. “Are you sure this isn’t a ridiculous idea? I mean, I’m pretty sure if anyone in the building sees me, I could get a ticket for public indecency.”

“I’d be more concerned about the noise complaints you’re going to get come morning.”

“That’s comforting, thank you.”

“Look, Anya. You’re insanely hot. Dmitry is going to choke on his own drool when he sees you. So go have fun and enjoy this weirdly fucked up Halloween, ok?”

“Yes, ok, you’re right. I can do this. Ok. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Please do. I expect a full report. Just remember to be safe…if you have a Quarantine Baby I will never let you forget it.”

Anya rolled her eyes, despite Marfa not being able to see it, and hung up. She set her shoulders back and stood up tall, ready to give Dmitry a Halloween that he’d hopefully remember.

_As long as he doesn’t pass out…_

She knocked on the door three times and waited, straining to hear movement on the other side of the door. There was a thud and a soft curse before the door cracked open.

“Trick or treat?” Her voice had dropped to a sultry level as she fiddled with the pumpkin bucket.

Dmitry threw the door open completely and gawked at her. His eyes couldn’t seem to settle on a specific part of her, constantly sweeping from the sheer material around her legs to her bare stomach to the scrap of fabric around her chest.

“Nastya…”

“I never realized how incredibly handsome you are, Dima.” His eyes met hers and blazed with recognition. “You’re tall, well dressed…”

Dmitry crossed the threshold to crowd her space in the hallway, hands visibly twitching at his sides. It seemed he was willing to play along with her little game…for now.

Anya reached up to softly trail her hand down his chest. He shivered at the touch, but remained in control of himself.

That wouldn’t do.

“So…are you going to give me my treat or should I move on to the other doors? I think Gleb is home?”

Like clockwork, Dmitry’s hands locked around her waist, touch scorching her bare skin. She arched up into his chest, feeling just how much he enjoyed her outfit pressed against her stomach. He growled, the noise vibrating against her as his teeth scraped along the column of her neck.

“You’re trying to kill me, Nastya.”

Her fingers tightened in his hair and he pulled back to meet her gaze.

“So maybe the private Halloween party won’t be so bad after all? Hmm?”

Dmitry all but dragged her back into the apartment, slamming the door shut behind them and throwing the deadbolt into place.

“I hope you know that Halloween is going to last several days this year. It was on the news.” He slid his hands just below the elastic of her pants and whimpered at the soft combination of her skin and the material.

“I must have missed that…”

“It’s fine. I saw it and so we should get to celebrating. Right. Now.” His hands traveled up her almost completely bare back and toyed with the simple hook keeping her top in place. Anya looked up at him, an impish grin on her face.

“Which scary movie do you want to watch first?”

“Nope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably would've written more for this if I wasn't currently drowning in schoolwork, but OH WELL. 
> 
> I hope this brings some semblance of light to your Halloween. 
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT? I like hearing what you think and I'm always open to ideas/suggestions for other holidays. 
> 
> THANKS 💛💛💛


	13. National Princess Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all ivyrobinson's fault. I wanted to sleep.

When Dmitry snuck upstairs, his goal was to snag a piece of birthday cake, maybe say an obligatory hello to everyone at the party, and then slink off back to his basement cave.

His foster mom, Lily, had been adamant that he come home from school over the weekend to celebrate his younger foster sister’s birthday. While he loved them both dearly and would normally do anything for them, he had a massive paper due in two weeks that he’d barely made a dent in.

Lily, being the clever woman that she was, pulled out the big guns, having Polly FaceTime him. Dmitry was no match for those big doe eyes or the crooked smile.

“Please, Dima! Lily said she got a real live princess to come to my party! Can you believe it?”

Polly was turning seven, and therefore still believed Disney Princesses were real. He couldn’t see Lily on the screen, but he could feel the daggers she was surely glaring at him to play along. Polly had been through a lot in her short life, so she deserved to have a magical princess birthday party.

And being the amazing, magnificent big brother that he was, could do nothing but agree with a level of enthusiasm that was passable to a first grader. When Polly handed the phone back to Lily, his foster mom made it clear she was on to him.

“Don’t ruin this for her with your pessimism and angst, Dima. She’s been talking about it for weeks.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, _Mom_.” He grinned wolfishly at her and promised to call when he was on his way home later that week.

Now that he was home, he began to regret so many things. The dining room was full of screaming and giggling six- and seven-year-olds and there was so. much. pink.

Lily never did anything half-assed.

Maybe when his fight-or-flight senses calmed down, he’d suggest she go into kids’ party planning business.

For now, he just wanted to get some cake without being covered in glitter.

The doorbell rang and the screaming turned to shrieks. Wincing as his ears rang, Dmitry finally managed to snag a slice of cake. He tried to stuff his face as fast as possible so he could sneak off before the party returned, but he had no such luck. The mass of bouncing little girls and boys blocked his exit from the kitchen.

Dmitry looked up to see what had caused the commotion and promptly dropped his slice of cake on the floor.

Standing there at the head of the table was arguably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

And she was wearing a massive red ballgown, white gloves and tiara.

Dmitry didn’t think he had a _thing_ for princesses, but there was always a time for firsts.

_You are not allowed to hit on the princess at Polly’s birthday party._

The voice in his head sounded strangely like Lily.

Sure enough, everyone – including the princess -had turned to stare at him and his fallen cake. It took him a moment to catch up to the present and he scrambled to clean up his mess and maybe save some of his pride.

The princess, with her perfect smile and her sparkly blue eyes, turned back towards the party guests and managed to direct the attention away from him.

“Alright my little princesses and princes, I am the Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. I hear there is a special princess here today with a birthday?” Her voice danced through the room and wrapped around Dmitry’s heart.

God, he was such a sap.

The kids all cheered and pointed at Polly, who looked about ready to pass out from the excitement.

Dmitry shared the sentiment.

“Well, I have a _very_ special present for the birthday princess!” The Grand Duchess Anastasia produced another sparkling tiara out of nowhere and seemed to float around to place it on Polly’s head. “As an Official Princess, I hereby crown you, Princess Polly! Now, what would Princess Polly like to do first on her royal birthday?”

His little sister was clearly in love with the Grand Duchess Anastasia and stared in awe for a moment before declaring that they should all go outside to play in the bounce castle – _Really, Lily??_ – and then they could open presents.

As the children were herded outside by the Grand Duchess, Lily suddenly materialized by his side.

“You’re drooling, Dima.”

“Jesus! Give a man some warning before you sneak up like that! I could have a heart attack!”

Lily was unimpressed by his dramatics.

“You really shouldn’t lust after a pretend princess at a seven-year-old’s birthday. That might put you in the ‘creepy’ category.”

“I was _not_ lusting after her!”

Lily just nodded, but it was clear she didn’t believe him.

“Her real name is Anya, by the way. If you’re going to make a move, at least show you’re interested in the person and not some weirdo with a princess-kink.”

She left him alone with his thoughts, which turned out to be quite the dangerous activity. Dmitry went from debating how fast he could pack his bag and head back to school, to images involving a certain princess that were decidedly _not_ appropriate for this birthday party.

He managed to notice some frosting on the floor that he missed despite his musings that consumed him. Sighing in defeat, he grabbed a rag and stooped to wipe up the mess.

His vision was filled with red silk and while his brain told him to _not_ stare like an idiot, he couldn’t help it. His jaw dropped at the close proximity of Anastasia – _Anya_ – in front of me.

He rose slowly, wondering if perhaps this was still one of his fantasies. The smirk on Anya’s face was doing things to his sanity and he needed to get back to the basement fast, otherwise he was definitely going to ruin this birthday party.

“So. You’re the big brother?” She quirked a brow at him curiously.

“Ahhh..yes. That would be me.” Would it be terribly pathetic if he were to wipe his hands on his pants? They were very clammy all of a sudden. “I’m Dmitry. Nice to meet you, Princess.”

He stuck his hand out and silently sent up a prayer of thanks that she was still wearing her princess gloves. Her hand was dainty and warm as it slid against his and he couldn’t ignore the spark that shot through him. If her sharp intake of breath was anything to go off of, she felt it too.

“You’re very charming, Dmitry, but you can call me Anya. There’s no need for formal titles here, right?” Her tone was teasing and his brain froze for a moment.

Was she flirting with him?

“So what does Anya do when she’s not Princess Anastasia?”

“ _Grand Duchess_ Anastasia.” Her smile was vicious, but her eyes held nothing but warmth. “And I’m a musical theater student at the University of Michigan.”

“Oh? What a shame I haven’t seen you around campus.” Fate was clearly playing a cruel trick on him. How could he possibly have coexisted on the same tiny campus as this literal angel and not known it?

“Well you know us theater nerds…we tend to stick to our own herd.”

Despite her words, Anya sidled up even closer to him. His tailbone hit the counter behind him and he realized she had him well-trapped – not that he was complaining. In fact, this might have been his dream come true.

She trailed her gloved-hand up his chest and around his neck to thread her fingers through the messy hair there.

“You know…I’ve always dreamed my first kiss would be in Paris with a handsome prince…”

Her tone had dropped down to a level that was blatantly indecent as her eyes flicked down to his lips. How Dmitry was still conscious was beyond him. He looked behind him out the window to see the kids still fully occupied by the bounce castle, closely supervised by Lily and a few other parents that had stuck around.

Making up his mind, he threw caution to the wind. Eyes never leaving hers, Dmitry managed to state his offer.

“I’ve got a coat closet and a Computer Engineering major…?”

Anya’s lips were now just a breath away from his own. “Perfect.”

Groaning in relief, Dmitry closed the distance between them. Kissing Anya was even better than he’d imagined. His hands settled on her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. He attempted to blindly guide her towards the desired destination. He was doing great, he thought, until his hip bumped into the corner of the counter and he hissed in pain. It was short-lived though, once he heard Anya’s giggle.

God, he was in love with her. A handful of sentences and one kiss and he was ready to get down on one knee.

Maybe two, if she’d let him…

Just as they were about to reach the privacy he so desperately needed, the quiet was interrupted by the squeals and gasps of the children who had apparently returned for presents.

“Dmitry’s attacking the princess!!”

“She’s a Grand Duchess, not a princess!”

“Same thing!”

“Why are their lips touching??”

“Are they going to play Twister? That’s what my mommy and daddy do when they kiss!”

Lily stepped in to save the day, which was good, because Dmitry thought about just dropping dead right there.

“Oooh it’s like Rapunzel, Polly! The handsome thief falls in love with the lost princess!” Dmitry felt the ire bubbling beneath the surface of Lily’s words.

Her response didn’t make much sense to the adults, who all knew what was happening, but luckily the children had the attention spans of a goldfish and began excitedly chattering about how Rapunzel was the best princess movie. This started a debate all of its own, which gave Dmitry the escape he needed.

With one last heated look at Anya – who mouthed “later” at him – Dmitry went back to his basement to avoid adding a ‘Birds and the Bees’ talk to his sister’s seventh birthday party. He hoped Lily wouldn’t be too upset at Anya… He could probably convince her not to file a complaint if he was charming enough…

Fuck. He still had to work on that paper. How the fuck was he supposed to concentrate on anything now that he knew what it was like to kiss a princess?

He was going to fail out of college, for sure, if Lily didn’t murder him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what i want 💛
> 
> just kidding...kind of...
> 
> THANKS FOR READING! I LOVE YOU ALL.


	14. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is slightly more bittersweet/angsty, but family holidays bring out a *mood* in me, so considered yourselves warned.

Anya had developed the tendency to distinguish her life in before’s and after’s. She hadn’t even been aware of the habit until recently, and now she found it extremely difficult to stop.

Before’s were usually very bittersweet thoughts. Yes, they contained varying levels of love and happiness, but the more she reflected on them, the more toxicity she picked up on.

Her family claimed to love unconditionally, however their love usually carried with it the weight of conformity. Stick to the status quo and there would be no issues. Toe the line of what had been established as the Romanov Way of doings and one could face the full weight of the family against them. Some would mask their displeasure as concern over her well-being. Perhaps she was on a self-destructive path and needed to be steered back on course. That was always Olga and Maria’s go-to for dealing with Anya.

Tatiana and Alexandra were much more cutting with their displeasure. They didn’t bother to hide their questioning of Anya’s intelligence. She often left interactions with them feeling like a scolded, stupid child. When Anya had told the family she’d wanted to move to the city, Tatiana and Alexandra had given her quite the lecture about a young, single woman living alone in New York City.

She didn’t know which had caused her to finally burst into tears when she’d left the room – their vicious remarks about her abilities, or her father and brother’s reluctance to speak up in her defense.

Nicholas had always deferred to his wife’s judgment when it came to the children, instead preferring to devote his attention towards the family business. And what could Alexei really do? Yes, he was their mother’s favorite as the only boy and the youngest, but he knew his place within the family well. Even if he had spoken up for the sister he claimed was his best friend, it wouldn’t sway Alexandra.

As the tears fell, Anya finally resolved herself to make the leap – even if it cost her whatever relationship she had with her family.

Now, in the after’s, Anya was relearning how to function as a human being.

Shortly after moving out, she’d met Dmitry. He lived across the hall from her with his uncle, a large man by the name of Vlad, and had wormed his way into her life (and heart) quickly. He drove her insane for a good month, always popping up to flash his pretty smile and help her with her bags or dropping off whatever “extra” food he’d made. He thought he was being slick, but she knew she’d developed a reputation within the first week of living in the apartment as someone that couldn’t cook to save her life.

The smoke alarms were treasonous bastards, really.

Anya had opened her front door to air out the smoke that first night – how could she burn a frozen pizza, really?? – only to find Dmitry leaning against his own door frame, smirk plastered across his face. His dimples were on full display as he observed her frustrations.

“Would now be a good time to offer up my services as your personal chef?”

Damn him. He was very tempting with his messy hair and playful eyes. But Anya had developed a distrust of others, especially when she could tell she was the butt of the joke, so she just huffed and slammed her door shut.

She’d slid down the door and sat on the floor, willing herself to not cry, when a timid knock startled her.

When she opened the door this time, Dmitry’s door was closed, but sitting on the floor in front of her was a plate with two slices of what had to have been the most amazing homemade pizza.

Anya did cry then.

She’d never been taught how to cook in the before’s. It wasn’t a skill anyone considered necessary for someone of her station. As horrible as that sounded – it was the twenty-first century after all – each of her sisters had been married off to good, wealthy men that would provide cooks for their wives. Everything was provided for them. Cooks, maids, drivers – they didn’t have to lift a finger if they didn’t want to.

Anya didn’t even know how to work a vacuum when she first moved out, for goodness sake.

Dmitry developed a habit of bringing her dinner almost every evening. Sometimes he’d just drop it off with another quiet knock and nothing else. If she was fast enough, though, she could catch him and manage some conversation with him. Anya enjoyed seeing him blush and stammer his way through explaining himself. He wasn’t confidence and swagger all the time, that much was clear, and it filled her with an unknown feeling.

Everything changed when he invited her over one Saturday morning for breakfast. She’d been nervous at first, unsure of how to behave around him, but of course Dmitry made everything so easy. He had this annoyingly calming air about him. His confidence had returned and he seemed to dance around the tiny kitchen, pulling ingredients from various places. He must’ve felt Anya staring at him, because he turned – smirk firmly in place – and quirked a brow at her.

“Would you like to come help me?”

“Are you prepared for me to ruin everything?”

“Now, now. Anyone can learn to cook!”

She burned the first round of pancakes. As tears of frustration and humiliation filled her eyes, Dmitry wrapped her up in his arms and whispered words of encouragement into her hair. She cried and she cried, completely ruining Dmitry’s shirt and the light mood of the morning, but he never stopped holding her.

When she finally settled, Dmitry lifted her chin up so she could meet his eye.

“Have you ever seen a waffle iron?”

Anya gave a watery giggle and shook her head. Dmitry let go of her for just a bit to retrieve the device from one of the higher shelves. He switched out the griddle for this new device and then grabbed Anya’s hand to pull her in close.

Standing behind her, keeping her grounded, Dmitry pointed out the green light on top of the device.

“The beautiful thing about waffles – it tells you when they’re done. You just have to pay attention to the light.”

His hand delicately held hers and together they lifted the lid, poured the batter, and then closed the lid and flipped the device. Anya watched as the light went from green to red, very much aware of the warm chest pressed up against her.

She tried not to jump – really she did – when the light clicked back to green. Dmitry chuckled behind her, but it didn’t feel demeaning or vicious like it might have if it had been any of her family members.

Once again, Dmitry’s hand guided hers to flip the iron, lift the lid, and reveal a golden, perfect waffle waiting for them. He let go of her hand and showed her a sly trick for unsticking it with a fork and then it plopped on the plate waiting for it.

“You’ve made your first waffle! Congrats!”

Making her mind up, Anya took the plate from his hands and set it on the counter. She unplugged the waffle iron and turned around to see the confusion written across Dmitry’s face. It only lasted for a moment, however, because Anya’s hands rested against his cheeks and then she was kissing him. She felt his hands brace them against the kitchen counter before splaying across her back. His noise of surprise turned into a contented hum as Anya deepened the embrace.

She’d never felt so unbelievably happy in her entire life. And it was all because of a stupid waffle.

Well. And Dmitry.

* * *

Anya’s first After Thanksgiving was difficult. She’d been on her own for a while now, but she hadn’t experienced the holidays yet. The Romanov family’s chef went all out for Thanksgiving dinner, producing far more food than a family of seven could possibly need. Anya never wondered at the spread before, but now she couldn’t help but feel guilty at the massive waste that must’ve occurred.

She laid in Dmitry’s bed, reaching out across the rumpled sheets in search of the warm arms she’d grown accustomed to having wrapped around her, ever since that Saturday morning.

But the bed was empty and Anya groaned in frustration. It was too early to be awake and productive.

Throwing on some of Dmitry’s clothes that littered the floor, she made her way out to the kitchen. Dmitry’s uncle was celebrating Thanksgiving with his girlfriend, Lily, so Anya and Dmitry had the place to themselves.

Sure enough, Dmitry was already at work prepping a turkey and stuffing for the oven. He saw her out of the corner of his eye and turned to her with a smile.

“Good morning! Do you want to help me with the bird?”

While her cooking skills had greatly improved in her time with Dmitry, she still didn’t feel like she should be trusted with arguably the most important part of their meal.

“If anyone else had asked, I would probably say no.” Her voice was teasing, which only made Dmitry’s smile grow. “But because it’s you, I suppose I can handle learning this early on a holiday.”

Prepping the turkey was messy business. Anya couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose in disgust as Dmitry rattled off the instructions.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’ll turn out great.” She must’ve looked incredibly skeptical, because he followed up with, “If it doesn’t, we can always order Chinese from the place around the corner.”

Backup plans were good. Besides, in the after’s, Anya liked establishing new traditions.

Once the turkey was safely within the oven, Anya hugged Dmitry from behind, her face pressed in between his shoulder blades.

“What’s next, Chef Dmitry?”

“We don’t have to start on the veggies or the rolls until later, so what would you like to do, Princess?”

Anya bit her lip as Dmitry turned around in her arms. She had a list of what her family would deem as appropriate activities, but she knew most people wouldn’t count sailing and brandy sampling as normal. Anya often didn’t even interact with the others until they sat down at the dinner table. Dmitry was very skilled at reading her like a book, though, so he sensed the rise in her anxiety before she did.

“I…I don’t know. I only know what was done…before.” Dmitry’s eyes darkened a bit at that. She had told him about her family, obviously, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of them, to say the least. “What would you do on Thanksgiving while you wait for the turkey to cook?”

“Hmmm. Well we have a few options, I suppose.”

“Go on…”

“We could watch football, which loosely translates to falling asleep on the couch with the TV on? We could make a pie for dessert? We could play cards? Or we could go for a quick walk around the block before deciding?”

“We can leave with the oven on??”

Dmitry chuckled. “It’ll be fine if we go for a short walk. I promise, no fire department calls today.”

Anya looked up at him through her lashes, teasing back in her tone.

“If we go for a walk, I’ll need to put on actual clothes…”

“Nap on the couch it is.”

Anya laughed loudly and without a care as Dmitry pushed away from the counter and pulled her into the living room. They made themselves comfortable and Dmitry threw a blanket over them as Anya curled into him.

She was still figuring out who she was without the overbearing Romanov family hanging over her head. But here, in this small apartment with Dmitry, she had never felt more at peace in her life.

She must’ve mumbled into his chest because his hands on her waist tightened their grip slightly.

“What was that, Anya?”

Anya looked up from her spot snuggled against him and couldn’t help the smile that threatened to split her cheeks if she wasn’t careful.

“Thank you, Dmitry.”

“You’re welcome. What did I do?”

“I know I could’ve relearned holidays on my own, but I’m glad I get to learn with you.”

Dmitry looked at her with warmth in his eyes.

“I’m just honored I get to be a part of this. It’s fun getting to create our own traditions, together.”

If the after’s were going to be this good, maybe the before’s would eventually fade and she wouldn’t need to classify her life at all.

Things would simply be.

Burrowing back against Dmitry’s chest, Anya found she could live with just being, especially if she could be with Dmitry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of therapeutic for me, but I hope you enjoyed reading it 💛
> 
> Thank you, as always! Drop a comment if you feel like it?


	15. Bartender Appreciation Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya is a bartender. Dmitry is an idiot. That's it. That's the plot. 
> 
> Also inspired by a gif I saw on tumblr but if you think I'm smart enough to figure out how to add that here...HA. Just go look at my tumblr post for this. K? k. LOVE YOU.

He’d been hanging close to the bar all night.

When he’d first approached her he’d been all confidence and sex, clearly aware of the effect he had on the female population around him. He’d flashed her a cheeky grin, dimple and all, and ordered two fingers of whiskey on the rocks.

One of _those_ types.

Anya contemplated giving him the cheap stuff, even reached for the bottle, but he tutted behind her and provided his preferred brand.

_Ass._

Once his drink was served, he introduced himself as Dmitry, charm dripping from his voice.

She gave him a clipped version of her name in return before another patron elbowed his way to the front and she caught Dmitry conceding momentary defeat. He set up shop in the corner, quietly nursing his drink while he watched her work.

Anya might’ve found it creepy, and perhaps she was annoyed at first, but Dmitry started to grow on her. He’d make small talk when she had a lull in customers and then go back to just watching when she’d need to make another drink or six.

He asked where she was from – _Upstate._ How long had she lived in the city – _About a decade, God where had the time gone?_ When did she start bartending – _In college. Her grandma actually bought this place and let her run it and live in the apartment upstairs._

In return, he shared similar information about himself. He’d grown up in the city his whole life and he wished he had a cool job like her, instead of the boring sales position he sold his soul to. She wondered when he’d get bored of her and go off to actually enjoy his evening, but he stayed firmly in place. He seemed to get a kick out of watching her work, which was so silly to her. She was only making drinks.

“You must be an excellent dancer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re very graceful behind the bar. You seem to float from one space to the next. It’s impressive.”

“Thank you?” Dmitry must’ve been really desperate if he was going to sit here all night and watch her work. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like friends? A date?”

He flashed that smile again and Anya quickly realized just how dangerous it was. Dmitry could probably convince her to give him all the whiskey behind the bar if she wasn’t careful.

“I _was_ here with a friend, but he quickly abandoned me as soon as his lady love arrived.”

He pointed over his shoulder and sure enough Anya could make out a pair tangled up together in one of the booths.

“Ahh. Well if you’d like some revenge, I can always have the doorman tell them to get a room?”

That earned her a laugh and she should _not_ have felt as giddy as she did. He was just…so… _pretty._ Everything about him. His smile lured her in – especially that _stupid_ dimple - and his eyes kept her there. She found herself wiping down the bar over by him more times than was necessary, just so she could try and get a closer look to determine what color they were.

His eyes were the color of the whiskey he drank and more than once she entertained thoughts of drinking him up. Occasionally some of his dark curls would fall just above his eyes and she desperately wanted to rake her fingers through it.

Raised voices from the other end of the bar interrupted her Dmitry-centered musings and she was once again reminded that she was working, for crying out loud.

Patrons usually behaved when she worked. They learned she had a short temper and held no qualms about withholding the booze they sought out if they were rude.

But as was her luck, this must’ve been some new guy, unaware of the rules of this establishment. Apparently irritated at having to wait thirty seconds to be greeted, he became very vocal about his feelings. Some of the others standing around him tried to get him to settle down, but it was no use.

“This bitch over here needs to learn not to make a man wait!”

Dead silence greeted his comment and Anya took a deep breath to remind herself that murder was still technically illegal in the state of New York.

“ _GLEB!”_ Her voice carried across the bar to the doorman who nodded and pushed his way through the crowds. Anya faced the angry man once more and kept her tone as pleasant as possible.

“We can do this one of two ways. You can either let Gleb escort you out, or I can break this beer bottle you wanted so bad and gouge out your eyes with it.”

She was vaguely aware of someone behind her choking on their drink but she had to hide her smile. This bastard needed to be dealt with first.

Gleb arrived just in time to grab the guy by the collar of his jacket and removed him from his spot at the bar.

“You heard the lady. Out.”

As soon as he was gone, applause filled the air.

“I was ready to step in for you, Red, really, but I knew you had it handled!”

“Poor bastard shoulda known better than to come here and mess with our Anya!”

“I just hope Gleb gave him an extra goodbye on the way out!”

“Thanks guys.” Anya rolled her eyes at their comments, but smiled nonetheless. These men were regulars and they’d sort of adopted Anya as their surrogate daughter. They were extremely protective of her, but they also knew she was scary enough on her own.

She had a feeling that the alcohol she provided them with may have had something to do with their affection for her, but she loved them all the same.

Turning back to where she’d heard the choking, she found Dmitry looking at her with a sense of wonder and – dare she hope? – arousal.

He also clearly had whiskey splattered all over his button down, which had her laughing as she grabbed a towel to throw at him.

“You’ll catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that, Dmitry.”

His jaw slammed shut and she didn’t miss the way it clenched as he figured out how to respond to her.

“Do you often threaten men with bodily harm?”

“Why? You interested?” She looked over her shoulder at him with a teasing smirk and she almost busted out laughing at how his eyes widened.

“Absolutely. When are you off work?”

“You’re joking.”

“Not even a little. You can threaten me any time.” He finished off what was left of his drink and met her eye. “I was going to eventually work up the courage to ask you for your phone number tonight, but now I’m ready to propose. If you’ll allow it, that is.”

“Hmmm…” She took a moment to openly appraise him, taking special joy from the way the flush spread from his cheeks down his neck. “I’m off at 2. Think you can wait that long?”

“Oh I’d wait a lifetime for you, Miss Anya.”

Damnit. He was still smooth, even when acting like an absolute fool.

The last two hours of work mocked the them. Time crawled at a snail’s pace and the looks they kept throwing at each other were going to set her aflame. Dmitry had declined another drink, instead asking for a water.

“I definitely want to remember tonight…” He might’ve intended that to be a mumble into the glass she set in front of him, but Anya’s giggle gave her away.

How had this strange man wormed his way past all of her defenses?

Finally, _finally,_ Gleb locked the front door as the last of the occupants – save for Dmitry – filed out. He shot her a questioning look but she waved him off. She could handle whatever Dmitry was. Besides, she lived just upstairs, so it wasn’t like she’d need to walk home alone.

The door had no sooner closed behind Gleb and Dmitry was over the counter.

“Woah there, lover boy. You could hurt yourself and then what would we do?”

Dmitry tentatively invaded her space, waiting for her to push him away, but she only looked up at him through her lashes, teeth grazing her bottom lip.

His hands settled on her waist and she did what she’d been plotting all evening, ever since he flashed that smile at her the first time. She fit her pointer finger in that infuriating dimple of his and brought his face just short of hers.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

His smile stretched from ear to ear and his eyes flickered down to her lips. Patience evaporated, Anya sealed her lips to his and tried to withhold her laughter at his surprised squeak.

Seriously? Where had this man been hiding?

Dmitry broke the kiss first, forehead resting against hers. She looked up to see his eyes were still closed, but he looked as if he was in pain.

“What is it going to take for you to never tell anyone I squeaked during our first kiss?”

“ _First_ kiss? Do you think you’ll be getting another from me?”

His lips covered hers and now she was the one caught off guard. Again and again, Dmitry pulled kisses from her and damnit all, her lips willingly complied.

“So…” His warm breath against her ear was tormenting her. It wasn’t fair. “Think I can get your phone number?”

“Shut up and follow me upstairs.” Anya grabbed his hand and drug him out the back towards the staircase leading to her apartment, Dmitry laughing the entire way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do the comment thing and you'll make my year 💛💛💛
> 
> thanks for reading!


	16. Chocolate Covered Anything Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is just (relatively tame) smut/fluff. There is no plot. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. 
> 
> Youths: Idk. This isn't explicit, but it's not Teen & Up. MAKE RESPONSIBLE CHOICES. 
> 
> Ok. I'm done now. Enjoy!

“Anya?”

“In the kitchen, Dima!”

He poked his head into their tiny galley kitchen to see quite the assortment of holiday baking covering most of their counter space.

“What are you up to, Nastya?”

Dmitry settled his hands on Anya’s waist, peering over her shoulder to see what she was working on. She leaned back into him, welcoming the quick kiss he placed on the corner of her mouth.

“Oh! I was doing some holiday baking and thought I’d make a tray especially for you! It’s got all of your favorite things.”

Sure enough, he saw chocolate covered pretzels, peppermint bark, white chocolate-dipped Oreos and even chocolate covered strawberries. How she managed to find decent strawberries in New York in December was beyond him. 

“Wow.” His hands flexed and slid just under the hem of her shirt, teasing her soft skin. ‘To what do I owe such a surprise?”

“Pff. Can’t I make things you like without there being a reason?” She tried to wave it all off as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But he knew his Nastya too well. She was up to something that was for sure. A pointed roll of her hips back into him didn’t help her case for innocence.

“Nastya…” He growled in against her neck and Anya shivered in response.

“Alright fine.” She turned around in his arms and gave him her best haughty face. “I got a little carried away with the chocolate and needed to find ways to use it so it didn’t go to waste. But I still have an entire pot of it!”

“Hmmmm.” Dmitry popped a strawberry into his mouth and didn’t miss the way Anya’s eyes zeroed in on his lips. 

“What?”

“Nothing...nothing...you’ve just...” She looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye and a deadly smirk. “You have some chocolate on your lips still.”

Before he could think of a retort, Anya reached up on her tip toes to lick the chocolate from his lips. She hummed in delight while his world came to a screeching halt. 

“Mmmm. Chocolate a la Dmitry. Now _that_ is the real Christmas treat.”

A wicked thought crossed his mind then and he tried to play it cool as he once again appraised the tray of goodies.

“You know, this is a pretty good spread, Nastya. But I think there’s something else that we need to make for it to be complete.”

Anya looked confused for a moment, probably wondering what she could’ve forgotten. 

“ _My_ favorite Christmas treat is definitely chocolate-covered Anya.” He whispered into the shell of her ear and took special delight in the shudder that overtook her. 

“Well. We. We should definitely go about making that. Like right now.” Anya’s voice had risen and he took a special kind of joy in the distracted breathiness of it.

He hoisted her up onto the counter top, careful of the other food that Anya had spent the day making, and couldn’t help but kiss her senseless. 

Anya pulled back with a gasp, studying his face for a moment. Making up her mind – and he desperately wanted to know what she saw that led to her conclusion – and held her arms up, quirking a brow in challenge at him. 

He made a show of sliding his hands up her torso, slowly dragging her shirt – he vaguely noticed that she was actually wearing one of _his_ t-shirts, but he’d deal with that later - along until he could toss it to the side.

“Hmmm. Where to begin, where to begin.” His hands ghosted over her bare skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Anya’s eyes slid closed and she arched up into his hands, eager for him to do something already. 

“Dmitry Sudayev if you don’t-“

But he’d already dipped his fingers into the pot of chocolate and drizzled it over her collarbone.

“OOOOH!”

“Too hot?”

“No!” Anya shook her head vigorously. “No it’s fine. Just wasn’t ready for-oh!”

Dmitry had taken her assent and wasted no time in licking up the droplets of chocolate from her skin. When he reached the very base of her throat, he sucked a small mark into her skin and Anya threw her head back with a cry of his name. 

This shouldn’t have felt as good as it did...but Dmitry’s mouth was easily one of the many wonders in this world. 

She’d been so distracted though, by his mouth, that she didn’t see him reach back for more of the chocolate sauce. She didn’t even bother opening her eyes as she felt it drip down between her breasts, almost preferring the anticipation of his next move more than anything else. 

Sure enough, his lips followed and cleaned her of every bit and Anya was sure she was going to pass out soon if he kept this up. 

“Dima...” she breathed as she felt his lips graze the underside of her breast. 

“Yes?” She glanced down to see Dmitry smirking back at her, heat in his eyes as he coated more of her skin in chocolate. 

“I’m going to kill you, Dima.”

“That’s the goal, Nastya.” 

And then his mouth covered her breast and Anya swore she could see stars. 

He released her breast with a _pop_ and before he could reach for more chocolate, Anya grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers up to her mouth, sucking them clean. 

Dmitry groaned and she celebrated the momentary switch in dynamic. His forehead rested against her chest and then he was hauling her up in his arms and carrying her off to bed. 

“Dmitry! At least turn the stove off first!” She giggled into his neck and felt his pulse thrumming rapidly beneath her lips.

This time his groan sounded like he was actually in pain at the thought of separating from her. So, to remedy his predicament he stalked back to the kitchen with Anya still clinging to him for dear life. 

She wasn’t making his job any easier when she licked up the length of his neck and whispered in his ear

“I think it’s my turn now, hmm?”

Dmitry shuddered but managed to keep his grip on Anya while he turned off the stove. 

“In a bit. I’m not finished with you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine is weird. I could've done a really sweet chapter yesterday about National Cupcake Day but my brain was like NO. DO THE CHOCOLATE COVERED ONE, YOU PERV. 
> 
> Oh well. Stuff happens. Hope you liked it! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always 💛💛💛


	17. Festivus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya has some grievances to air. Things spiral from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my ivyrobinson, who I love and who never ceases to inspire my Dimya chaotic fluff.

It’s awkward, sitting around the table. The tension so thick Dmitry would likely need a machete to get through.

In hindsight, he probably should’ve paid closer attention to Maria’s stories about her sisters. He’d been in her dorm room countless times, and he’d seen the photos that covered her desk and walls. Plus, the Romanov blue eyes were famous. As he looked around the table, seven pairs of the same crystal eyes stared back at him in various forms of confusion, anger, and delight.

Tatiana and Alexei were the only ones that seemed to be enjoying the tension, which caused Dmitry’s stomach to do several flips in anxiety. He’d heard enough about them to know Tatiana was merciless and Alexei had zero qualms about disrupting the civility of a family gathering.

But the one pair of eyes he desperately tried to avoid were currently burning a hole in the side of his head.

His gut had told him Anya meant trouble from the moment she dragged him into that disgusting bathroom in the back of the bar, and really, he should’ve listened to his instincts.

Something about her, though, sucked him in and he was a goner from the moment she’d whispered in his ear.

She was there for a campus visit, so after, when he cringed back into his pants and did his best to clean up – Marfa and Maria were ruthless with their taunts about his love life – he assumed it was a one-time thing and that he’d (sadly) never see her again.

Anya, for her part, fixed her hair and adjusted her skirt – the wrinkles from where he’d fisted it impossible to remove, but thank goodness it was a dark bar – before kissing the corner of his mouth and disappearing out the door and back into the crowd.

Dmitry emerged from the bathroom after a few deep breaths and cold water splashed on his face, only to take one look at the commotion his friends were causing before he slipped out the back door.

He could deal with their annoyance at his disappearance tomorrow.

He reached for his phone in his back pocket – to send the girls a quick text to let them know he wasn’t feeling well and that he was headed back to his apartment – and was surprised to find a crumpled bar napkin with a phone number hastily scribbled on it along with the letter A.

When had she found time to do that? And how had she gotten it in his pocket without him noticing?

_She was pretty good at distracting him…_

Now though, those pretty eyes were clearly plotting his murder. Anastasia – _Anya_ – sat directly across from him and while he tried to pretend she wasn’t openly glaring at him, he couldn’t split his energy between her and his best friend, currently seated to his right. He could feel Maria glancing back and forth between the two of them, attempting to figure out what exactly would elicit such a reaction from her sister.

It might have had something to do with the fact that Dmitry had neglected to ever contact said sister after fucking her in the back of a bar upon first ‘meeting’ her.

Campus visit. Hmpf. Now that he thought about it, Maria had said her sister was visiting that weekend as she was considering transferring schools, and had been pretty frustrated that he’d made himself scarce enough to never actually be introduced to the girl.

_He introduced himself, alright…_

Just as he was beginning to formulate how far faking a medical episode would take him – not far, what with Olga and her medical degree – Anya cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the entire table.

Dmitry mentally cursed his mind for being able to remember that Olga was a doctor, but he couldn’t fucking put two and two together that Anya was Maria’s _sister._

He was an idiot.

Anya cleared her throat again, this time with a pointed look at Dmitry and maybe the stroke wouldn’t have to be faked?

“So tomorrow is Christmas Eve…” Her beautiful voice, which had been playing on an endless loop in his dreams (nightmares?), was laced with fake politeness. Dmitry felt everyone around him stiffen in anticipation for whatever the most chaotic sibling would say next.

“Anastasia has finally learned how to use a calendar, how groundbreaking.” Alexei rolled his eyes and continued eating his meal, but was obviously ready for whatever was about to happen next.

For a moment, Anya’s death glare shifted from Dmitry to Alexei and he was able to let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

A mistake, really, because the noise caught Anya’s attention and he was once again pinned under her eyes.

“As I was saying. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Which means today is technically Festivus. A day to air our grievances.” She took a sip of her wine to draw out Dmitry’s anguish and he didn’t know if he’d rather throw himself in front of a train or drag her to the nearest coat closet.

“Yes, Anastasia? What grievances would you like to air out?”

“Oh, I don’t think I should go first. We have a guest. Dmitry? Do you have any grievances you’d like to share with the group?”

Her honeyed voice dripped poison. Dmitry was effectively trapped and Anya wouldn’t stop until she’d gotten her victory.

“Uhhh. No. I’m…I’m good.” His fidgeting disproved this statement, but luckily Tatiana took the spotlight.

“I have one. I am sick of the secrets. Nastya, put the poor man out of his misery and get to the climax of this soap opera.”

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t so lucky that Tatiana spoke up.

“I have just one grievance, Tatya.” Anya turned to face Maria. “I wasn’t aware that your friends were the type to sleep with a person and never call them back.”

Pandemonium ensued.

“ _What?”_

 _“Anastasia!_ He is a _guest!_ Have some manners!”

“Who slept with who? Anastasia? What are you talking about?”

“Dmitry?? What does she mean by that?”

“God, this is shaping up to be the best Christmas, ever.”

Someone threw a roll at Alexei for his comment, but Dmitry was torn between responding to Anya and placating Maria.

“Oh my God…” Maria mumbled, finally connecting the dots. “DMITRY YOU SLEPT WITH MY SISTER??”

“Annnnd Maria’s caught up.”

“Alexei, do not make fun of your sister.” Nicholas’s voice was stern, cutting through all of the shocked side conversations. “Anastasia, Maria, and Dmitry, I think this conversation would be better suited for the three of you in the parlor.”

“Oh come on! Don’t send them away! I want to see how it ends!”

“I’ll bet you $20 Nastya slaps him.”

“Tatiana! Alexei! That is enough.”

There was a chorus of ‘fine’s’ as Dmitry and the two youngest Romanov sisters made their way out of the dining room.

No sooner had he closed the door behind them and both women were attacking him with questions. His poor brain struggled to keep up with the raised voices and angry, overlapping sentences.

“PLEASE SHUT UP FOR JUST ONE MOMENT.”

Both sisters gasped and for a moment he wondered if this was how he’d go. Murdered by Maria and Anastasia Romanov in the family’s parlor.

_Maybe someday they’d make his story a version of Clue._

“I’m sorry, but this is all a lot and my head hurts and I honestly would love it if we could talk about this like calm, rational adults.”

“Do calm, rational adults sleep with their best friend’s younger sister?”

“Do calm, rational adults sleep with a woman and never call her back??”

“Ok so you both make very valid points.” Dmitry sat in the nearest chair, rubbing his temples and regretting ever befriending Maria Romanov. Well, not entirely, but it was strong in that moment.

“Maria, I’m sorry I slept with your sister and didn’t tell you. I know it’s a shitty defense, but I didn’t know she was your sister until tonight.”

Maria looked like she wanted to interrupt him with how ludicrous that sounded, but she held her tongue.

“Would you mind giving me a few minutes along with Anya? I feel like our conversation isn’t really a three-person thing…” He held up his hand before she could start in on him again. “I promise, if she doesn’t kill me, we can continue the lecture I know you want to give me.”

Maria glared at him, but nodded. She shot a quick glance back at her sister, probably to make sure she was fine with this arrangement, and then left.

He and Anya were alone now.

For the first time since the night they’d met.

The slap to his cheek doesn’t surprise him, and he supposed he earned it, but the sting hurts nonetheless.

“I deserved that.”

Anya’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears and he felt like such a scumbag.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

He stood and then they were entirely too close for this kind of conversation. But Anya was the sun, moon and stars combined and he couldn’t resist being caught in her orbit.

“I’m an idiot.” She snorted, but the tears still threatened to fall. “I guess I figured you just wanted a one-night thing, what with it being a ‘campus visit,’ and it would be easier if I didn’t reach out to you. You know…then you wouldn’t have to let me down easy.”

Tears fell now, but Anya’s frosty demeanor softened and she took a step towards him, arms coming up to wrap around herself. She looked so small and vulnerable in that moment and he felt like such a jerk for ever hurting her.

“Well…you were right.” His heart clenched and he looked to his feet. Here was the awkward rejection he had been hoping to avoid. “You are an idiot.”

He looked up to see her hand stuck in mid-air, as if she was deciding whether or not to touch him.

“I might be reckless, but I don’t hook up in college town bars with just anyone, Dmitry.”

“Oh?”

“I liked you. A lot. And then you didn’t call and it hurt _so. much_.”

He caught her hand, now clenched in a fist, and brought it up to kiss her wrist, then her palm as she relaxed.

“And I’m so sorry about that. Really, I am.” He tried to make sense of whatever was racing through his mind and heart at that moment. “Contrary to what Maria will tell you, I also do not go around hooking up in college town bars with just anyone. I wanted to call you; to see you again.”

Dmitry’s free arm tentatively reached for her waist and when she didn’t slap him (again), he tugged her in close.

“I know that I fucked this up and if you want to dump a drink on me and banish me from Christmas, I’d totally get it.” Anya let out a little hiccup-giggle, still unable to stop the tears. “But if you’ll let me try, I’d give one of my kidneys to try and make this all up to you.”

Anya buried her head against his chest and laughed fully now. He found himself laughing along with her, surprised at how dramatic this night kept progressing.

“Keep your kidneys. You might need them to placate Maria.” She looked up at him now, eyes twinkling for a completely new reason.

“Does that mean…”

“That means you get _one_ chance, Dmitry. One. And you’d better use it wisely, because there’s a small army of Romanov women that are scarily adept at getting rid of a body on the other side of that door.”

He let out a (mostly) mock groan of despair, but was quickly silenced by Anya’s lips against his, her fingers tangling in his hair.

If Anya wasn’t careful, the others would know exactly what they were ‘discussing’ in the parlor…

He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t hear the door behind them open. He did, however, hear the excited gasp and Alexei calling back to his sisters.

“Tatiana! You owe me $30! Dmitry's got a welt on his cheek and Anya’s got her tongue jammed down his throat!”

“Alexei Nikolaevich Romanov I will end your life.” He looked down to see Anya casually threaten her younger brother and oh, Dmitry was so gone for this woman.

“Come on you two, the rest of the firing squad wants a shot at him, although probably not in the same way as you, Nastya.”

Anya removed herself from his hold, but weaved her fingers with his.

“Come on,” A soft tug on his hand and he was following her from the parlor like a lost puppy. “I’ll protect you.”

Definitely no grievances would be heard from Dmitry tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment below if you're feeling the holiday spirit? Maybe?
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> 💛💛💛


	18. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the idiots from National Princess Day?
> 
> They're back and it's Christmas. Enjoy 💛

“Don’t go!”

Dmitry wrapped his arms around her tiny frame and velcroed her to him.

“Dima, you know I don’t want to, but I have to get ready for work!” But Anya made very little effort to remove herself from his hold. Instead, she allowed herself to snuggle back into his warmth, taking a deep inhale of him, a wonderful mix of spice, cinnamon and cologne.

How he had managed to smell exactly like Christmas was beyond her.

“Quit your job. It’s Christmas!” His hands slid under the ugly Christmas sweater Lily had forced everyone into wearing and rubbed delicate circles into the small of her back. “Besides, I can promise you so much more merriment here…”

Anya rolled her eyes at his ridiculous teasing tone.

“I’m sure you can, but they need me.” Dmitry cursed her sense of responsibility. “I’ll come back here, but it’ll be late.”

“I’ll wait up for you.”

“That’s sweet, but you’ll likely be passed out from all the excitement. I’m sure Polly will want her wonderful big brother to partake in enjoying her presents.” She rested her hand against his cheek and kissed the tip of his nose.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to one-up me as Polly’s favorite person.” His fingers now danced along her ribs, tickling just enough to have Anya squirming against him.

“Dmitry!” Anya squealed in delight, but caught his hands to stop his assault. “You’ve known her a lot longer than I have. I’m sure a couple of presents aren’t going to disrupt your spot at the top.”

“You made her a princess gown and got her a nerf gun. How can I possibly compete with that?”

He was right. As soon as Polly had opened her presents from Anya – who she still occasionally called the Grand Duchess Anastasia – she’d let out an ungodly screech and threw herself into Anya’s arms.

“It was a pretty good idea, if I do say so myself.” Anya looked entirely too pleased with herself.

“If I wanted to play dirty, I’d get Polly to help me with convincing you to stay instead of going to work…”

“Hmmm but if you play dirty now, we won’t get to play dirty later…” Anya took special delight in watching the wheels turn within Dmitry’s mind. Once he did, he rolled them so that she now straddled him.

“Or I could keep you here and we can play dirty now?” He tried to remain hopeful that he could change her mind.

“Dmitry Sudayev. I promise, if you can behave until I get back, you’ll get another Christmas present.” She leaned down to kiss him, pulling away before he could deepen it and trap her there forever. “That is, if you can stay awake until I get back.”

His eyes were shut and he looked as if he was in pain, but the groan he released was anything but that.

“Who has an event on Christmas Day? Take Christmas Eve, but this is supposed to be the one day of the year everyone stays the fuck home.” He sounded like a petulant child; he was sure of it.

Anya kissed him again and then removed herself from his bed. “I’ll be back later. Now go spend Christmas with your family. I’m sure they’d like to see that pretty face at some point.”

Groaning again, Dmitry got up and grabbed her hand, leading her out of his room and up the stairs.

“Fine. But I will be eagerly awaiting your return later, Grand Duchess Anastasia.”

They said their goodbyes – Polly made a beeline for the pair and clung to Anya with another hug of thanks – and then Dmitry attempted to enjoy the rest of the holiday with his family. It felt weird though, without having Anya there. They’d been dating for a while, but he hadn’t been expecting the hollowness in his chest whenever she wasn’t around.

Lily threw a stuffed reindeer at him and told him to pull it together. Polly then stole his attention away from thoughts of Anya by declaring he was under attack from the Princess Army.

Damn Anya and her perfect presents.

* * *

He wasn’t able to stay awake until Anya got back.

After being chased around the house by a tiny princess with a nerf gun, Polly had wanted to go outside to sled down the street. Then they had a nice, quiet dinner before unwinding with a Christmas movie. He’d felt himself falling asleep during Elf and Lily finally shooed him down to his room. She’d let Anya in when she got back.

While he was looking forward to whatever mystery Anya had planned for him, he was also dreading her satisfaction about being right that he couldn’t stay up as late as her.

It was the sound of jingle bells that woke him.

Then he heard his door close as quietly as Anya could manage. She was trying to be sneaky, but with each step there was another jingle jangle of bells.

_What the hell was she wearing?_

“What was it you said?” She whispered dangerously close to his ear. Dmitry was still pretending to be asleep, but the smile the crept across his face gave him away. “ _I’ll wait up for you!’_ Ha! It’s barely 1am and you’re very much in bed, Dmitry Sudayev.”

She then climbed into bed on top of him. It was pitch black in his room, but as his hands came to rest on her thighs, he didn’t feel the jeans she’d left in. He slid his hands up further and felt a short skirt cover them.

“Anya…”

“Dima.” She was rather teasing, clearly enjoying that he knew something was up, but couldn’t see what.

“What are you wearing?”

She wiggled in his lap and there were those bells again, almost masked by his grumble. He was loathed to do it, but he needed to see what was going on. He removed one of his hands from her legs and reached over to turn on his nightstand lamp.

“You’re fucking joking me.”

“We had to dress up according to the theme of the event, so I was one of Santa’s Little Helpers.”

He returned his other hand back to the red and white striped stockings. The skirt would have probably been considered appropriate in a professional setting, but right now, in his basement bedroom, it was the most indecent thing he’d ever seen. The peppermint buttons holding the top of her outfit together were calling out to him, but first he needed to address the conversation before he lost himself completely.

“Where are the bells coming from?”

She bent down to kiss his cheek, teasing him with just the lightest brush of her lips. Sure enough, there were more tinkling bells as she moved.

“The hat and the boots.”

“Is…is this my mystery Christmas present?”

“Well you had such a strong reaction to my princess outfit…” She wiggled again his lap and snickered at his obvious thoughts about her current attire. “I was curious to see if elves also did it for you?”

“I feel like you might be making fun of me somewhere in there, but I can’t be bothered to care right now.” He sat up; hands still hidden beneath the layers of her skirt. “And I’m pretty sure it’s just a general ‘Anya Thing,’ so good luck finding anything to wear that doesn’t make me want to get you naked.”

Anya threw her head back and laughed, before realizing that only two floors separated them from the rest of Dmitry’s family.

“Do you think they heard me?” She whispered into his neck. He flipped them then, wrapping her legs around his waist. The bells on her shoes chimed in response and a wicked thought crossed his mind.

“Nah. I’ve been louder playing videogames.” She snickered into his skin and he resolved to make her pay for that. “Now. Let’s see if I can get those bells to jingle a Christmas tune.”

Anya’s laugh cut off into muffled moan against his lips. She lifted her hips so he could get to work on her stockings.

“Merry Christmas, Dima.”

Whatever response he had was lost within the layers of her costume’s skirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals 💛💛💛
> 
> Leave a comment below? K cool. Love you all!


	19. National Card Playing Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12.28.2020
> 
> Did I use a random holiday as an excuse to write a slow-burn quarantine roommates fic? Yup. 
> 
> Am I asking you, the reader, to overlook some basic 2020 apartment logic as you read this? Yup. 
> 
> Will you still get a toothache from the pure, idiotic Dimya fluff that this chapter contains? (Hopefully) yup.

The past year had been a clusterfuck, and that was putting it lightly, according to Dmitry.

Vlad had moved out the previous December, and just when Dmitry was grappling with the idea that he might’ve had to pay January’s rent solo, Anya showed up on his doorstep, ‘Roommate Wanted’ flyer held safely in her dainty hands. His gut had told him that allowing a complete stranger – and a _female_ at that –to live with him probably wasn’t the best of ideas, but his logistical brain quickly reminded him that it was either live with Anya, or go back to the Ramen Noodle diet.

Not that he wasn’t a fan of the Ramen Noodle diet, per say. But he wasn’t 19 anymore and knew he’d last all of two months without a roommate. Besides, Anya looked innocent enough. What could realistically go wrong?

She’d moved in on a snowy Wednesday, just a few boxes and a duffle bag in hand, thanking him profusely for letting her move in on such short notice. Anya had seemed so earnest and genuine that Dmitry could only stutter out a dismissal, hand ruffling his hair nervously. Those blue eyes of hers pinned him right where he stood and he hadn’t known what else to do.

They made it almost two months of relatively peaceful coexistence.

Anya was a pretty great roommate, actually. He’d never really spent a lot of time with the opposite sex aside from the casual hookup here and there, preferring to keep to himself most of the time. He’d been afraid it would be awkward between the two of them, but Anya smashed through his walls and they’d become something akin to friends.

She insisted on cooking for the two of them, which he greatly appreciated. He could manage the basics on his own, but the first time Anya had whipped up a traditional Russian dish, Dmitry almost swooned at the smell. It had been so long since he’d been able to indulge in the classics his father had made when he was still alive.

Anya also strong-armed him into getting out more. They’d met up with her friends for drinks a few times and he’d been surprised at how much fun he’d been able to have. It might’ve helped that they were a pretty rowdy crew – Marfa should’ve come with a warning label – but he found himself looking forward to their nights out almost as much as he enjoyed spending the weekends in, just the two of them.

Then the shutdown happened and things got…complicated.

It had been quite the adjustment for both of them. Spending their evenings and weekends together was one thing. With both of them working from home with the shutdown, tensions naturally rose and they had their fair share of screaming matches. For all of their positive qualities, the two were both insanely hot-headed and stubborn. Some days, Dmitry wasn’t exactly sure what they were fighting for, just that it felt good to get fired up and let loose all of the pent-up frustrations.

The first time Anya had cried, though, he’d felt like the world’s biggest jerk and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. That, and he also fought the strange urge to wrap her up in his arms and apologize profusely.

He hadn’t intended to hurt her feelings, really. Communication wasn’t a strong suit of his and he just couldn’t properly articulate his frustrations with being cooped up in their two-bedroom all of the time.

But that didn’t explain the urge to physically console her…

Dmitry was not a touchy-feely type. In fact, he wasn’t sure he knew how to physically interact with others. Vlad occasionally would pat him on the back, but that was the extent of his touch knowledge.

Well. Besides his non-platonic interactions. But he couldn’t exactly apologize to Anya _that_ way.

Nevertheless, they’d managed to mend the bridges they could and adapt to the idea of a ‘New Normal’ that everyone kept shoving down their throats. Some days, when they were feeling particularly cynical, they’d play a drinking game during their Zoom meetings – discreetly of course. Anytime someone mentioned that horrible phrase, they’d have to take a sip of their ‘coffee.’

They’d had to stop their game the last time because Anya hadn’t been able to control her giggles in the other room and someone asked Dmitry if he was feeling well, because he looked quite red on the screen.

Nine months into their ‘New Normal’ and things grew tense again. Holidays were apparently a touchy subject for Anya – not that Dmitry held any love towards them – and their irritableness peaked about a week after Thanksgiving. They went the next week pointedly avoiding the other, which was quite the feat, given how small their living space was.

Finally, the week leading up to Christmas, the tension broke.

News of an incoming snow storm brought out their sensibilities. They’d need to both go on the grocery run in order to manage all the supplies they’d need if they got snowed in.

“Maybe a snow storm will finally get these idiots that have been acting like nothing has changed to stay the fuck home for once…” Anya grumbled as they navigated the sidewalks.

Dmitry fought back a laugh, but then had to focus on steering Anya away from a group of people talking sans-masks.

This was exactly why Dmitry usually did the grocery runs _alone._ Anya had a much harder time keeping her distaste of the anti-maskers quiet.

They stopped at their favorite take-out spot on the way home and then settled in for what was surely to be an exciting weekend.

The first night, the wind howled in between the buildings loudly enough that Dmitry couldn’t find sleep. There was a timid knock on his door and then Anya peaked in, blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders.

“Hey…um…so I know this is going to sound weird and you can totally say no and we’ll pretend this never happened…” She bit her lip and fidgeted with her nerves, which concerned him. Anya was hardly ever nervous. “But…”

“What is it, Anya?”

“Can I…can I stay in here…with you? I just…It’s silly, but I get these…nightmares and the wind isn’t really helping and normally I’d just cuddle up with Marfa, but…”

God, she was adorable, wasn’t she? But Dmitry also felt a pang in his gut at the mention of nightmares. How long had she been suffering in silence during this quarantine, too afraid to come to him? Also…what had pushed her to the point where she needed to reach out to him?

“Of course you can, Anya. Come on.” He lifted his comforter and she climbed in next to him. Her blue eyes looked up at his and he saw they were wet with unshed tears. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. There was a pointed distance between them, as if she was still unsure that he was okay with crossing this boundary between them.

“Alright. Well, I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?” Her eyes fluttered closed, sleep already coming to her now that she wasn’t alone. “I’m always here for you, Anya.”

“Thank you, Dmitry.” And then she was out.

The next morning, he woke to Anya firmly secured against his chest by his arms wrapped around her.

Well. That definitely wasn’t part of the plan…but it was probably a good thing they both managed to get some sleep in the night.

Plus, Dmitry couldn’t help but sink into the embrace for a moment. It felt…nice? He wasn’t a cuddler, even with this lady friends, but there was something so safe and comforting about having Anya there in his arms.

His brain kicked into gear, though, and Dmitry quickly extracted himself from around Anya, eager to put some distance between them before she woke up.

He’d only managed to scoot a few inches back before Anya blinked up at him. At first, her expression held only contentment, but then she seemed to realize where she was, because her eyes widened comically and she began apologizing, nervous rambling spilling from her lips.

Lips, which Dmitry just now realized how inviting they looked. He wondered briefly, what would happen if he tried to stop Anya’s word vomit by kissing her.

_Um…what?_

Thinking about kissing one’s roommate wasn’t normal. Right? He wasn’t supposed to be thinking these thoughts, especially when Anya had come to him in a moment of vulnerability. If he took advantage of that, he was just a smarmy creep?

“Don’t worry about it, Anya. Did you get any sleep?” If the rumpled hair and dried drool were anything to go by – and they were both adorable, alright? – Anya had slept _hard_.

“Yes, actually. I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night. Probably back when I was living with Marfa and she’d sleep next to me when the nightmares got particularly bad.”

Anya said it so casually, as if she was used to functioning on little sleep.

No wonder she took naps over her lunch break…

Dmitry’s mouth moved before his brain could stop him.

“Well, if you want, you can always sleep in here when you need to. I don’t mind.”

Anya looked at him now like he’d grown three heads. Maybe he had?

“I don’t want to burden you, Dmitry.”

“You won’t, it’s fine. Really. I slept pretty good myself.” He made sure not to mention the tangled web of limbs he’d found them in when he woke up.

“Well if that’s the case, I’m making blinis for breakfast. As a thank you.” Anya got out of his bed, blanket still wrapped around her tiny frame, and scuttled off to the kitchen. He groaned in response to her declaration and rubbed his face, hoping to bring some semblance of sanity back to him.

He fucking _loved_ Anya’s blinis. She didn’t make them often, arguing that they would lose their appeal if they ate them every day like Dmitry wanted, so this was a real treat.

_You should marry this girl, Dmitry._

A voice that sounded suspiciously like Vlad whispered traitorously in his head. Dmitry made a stop at the bathroom and splashed some cold water against his skin, now fully awake and aware of growing feelings towards a certain someone that were decidedly _not_ normal for roommates.

He looked out the balcony window before making his way to the kitchen. Sure enough, there looked to be about a foot of snow on the ground, and it was still steadily coming down.

“Looks like the weatherman finally got something right. We probably won’t be leaving for a day or so.” It was cold by the window, so he grabbed two of his sweatshirts – one for him and one for Anya – and joined her in the kitchen. When he held out the hoodie for her to take, she looked at him suspiciously.

“Oh don’t act like you haven’t been stealing my clothes while I’m out running errands.”

Anya huffed indignantly, but accepted the garment. It dwarfed her completely and she had to roll up the sleeves several times to keep them from falling in the batter.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks were pink, but she looked extremely satisfied with this development.

He wondered how far down he could get her blush to go, then he shook himself and focused on the massive stack of blinis she’d placed in front of him.

Later, after he’d cleaned the kitchen, they’d settled in the living room to watch the weather report and perhaps a movie if they could find one they’d both agree on. Anya had not-so-discreetly tucked herself into his side and Dmitry’s arm hung around behind her on the couch. It was all very domestic and cute, and it should’ve terrified him. Instead, he had to fight his arm from sliding down around Anya, wanting nothing more than to tug her closer to him as the storm raged on outside.

Then the lights, TV, and the hum of the heater all clicked off.

_Great._

Anya had burrowed into his side and he realized the sudden darkness must’ve scared her. There was no fighting his arms now as they wrapped around her, already whispering assurances in her hair.

“Good thing we managed to live in an apartment with a rickety old fireplace, right?”

This got a nervous chuckle out of Anya and his heart leapt.

“Do you even know how to start a fire?”

“Do I? Pff. Of course I know how to start a fire!” His mock offense at her question drew more laughter from her, so he declared it a win.

He got to work on the fireplace and Anya went to rummage around for some candles, the only light in the apartment their cellphones. It took some patience, but he managed to get a steady fire going. It wasn’t much, but at least it would keep them warm until the power was back on.

Anya returned to the living room with an armful of blankets hiding her from his view. She plopped them on the couch and then spread the thickest on the ground by the fire, adding more blankets around them to provide more heat and cushion.

Once she was satisfied with their new blanket fort, she went back to the kitchen and reappeared with two bags of chips, water bottles, and what looked like a deck of cards. He eyed her with amusement and she stuck her nose in the air with fake superiority.

“What? We have to do something to pass the time and I’m not tired yet.”

He chuckled, his mind racing with other activities they could do to occupy them by the fireplace, but kept those ideas to himself.

“Alright. What are we playing?”

“War. But, every time a person loses a round, they have to do a truth or dare.”

“What kind of game is this?” He grabbed a water bottle and took a big gulp before spitting it out – thankfully – away from the fireplace.

“Is this _vodka?_ ”

Anya looked at him in challenge. “Yes. Too much for you to handle?”

This was…dangerous…but his stubbornness refused to back down from anything she issued to him.

“Bring it on, Anya.”

Their game started off with silly things, mostly. Anya dared Dmitry to let her put her ice feet against his back – he’d squawked at the cold and settled for taking a drink instead of finishing the dare. Another rule, Anya mentioned conveniently. He won the next round and he asked Anya how she’d met Marfa. That had been quite the tale, leaving them both gasping around their laughter.

The next round, Anya won.

“Truth.”

“Am I a better roommate than Vlad?”

Dmitry made a show of almost taking a sip, which earned him a scoff and a pillow thrown at his head.

“Absolutely, yes.”

Then it was Dmitry’s turn to win.

“Truth.”

“What made you go for a ‘Roommate Wanted’ flyer? Isn’t that kind of a dangerous idea for a lady?”

Her hand hovered around her drink.

“Which question would you like me to answer? You only get one.”

“The first one, Anya.” He rolled his eyes are her attempt to divert his question.

“I needed a place to stay. I couldn’t continue to mooch off of Marfa’s kindness for the rest of my life. I’d promised her that if a creep had answered the door when I knocked, I’d turn around and run.”

That was something. “And I didn’t look like a creep? What gave me away as a not-creep?”

“Ahhh sorry. You already asked your question. Guess you’ll have to just win the next round.” Anya winked at him and then the competitiveness was back between the two.

Their game went on for what felt like hours. Questions gradually got deeper and more personal. Anya learned about Dmitry’s father and how he’d come to live with Vlad. She asked about his dreams and goals, what he wanted to do first if they ever got out of this pandemic nightmare, and if he always wanted to live in the city or if he’d prefer to leave this place that held so many memories.

In return, he learned more about Anya than he’d thought possible. It was difficult, at first, mostly because she was really good at this game that was based entirely on luck. He learned her family was gone as well, and that she’d moved to the city a few years ago to escape her past. She had a grandmother that lived in the city as well, but she hadn’t been able to see her for more than a few short FaceTime calls every couple of weeks.

He also learned that her nightmares were the result of some ass named Gleb that had a habit of stalking her while she was in high school and college. She had a restraining order against him, and as far as she knew, the only people who knew she lived in the city were Marfa’s small group – a group that would easily kill a man for Anya, if needed – her grandmother, and Dmitry.

Which made it all the more insane to him that she’d want to live with some random guy she found in an add.

He won the next round and made sure his question counted.

“Alright. Why me? Why trust a stranger?”

Anya took a healthy swig of her drink and Dmitry couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“Oh I’m going to answer you, but I needed a drink to say it.” She said it with such matter-of-factness that Dmitry grew nervous. What could it possibly be?

“You had nice eyes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes. They looked kind. You can usually tell if a person can be trusted by looking them in the eye. You looked apprehensive of me, but you also looked like a genuinely good person.”

He was speechless. But also, suddenly very protective of her. How could anyone want to hurt Anya? She was just…so… _good._

They were out of cards at this point. He started to gather them back to shuffle, but Anya’s hand on his wrist stopped him.

“Want to switch it up?”

“Please do not ask me to play strip poker during a blizzard, Anya.”

“Ha! So you’re saying you don’t want to get naked with me?”

“I- Wait. What?” It might’ve been the vodka swimming around his system, but it sounded like Anya might’ve been teasing him in a way that was more flirty than normal.

_She asked if you wanted to get naked with her, dipshit._

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t so much flirty as it was a downright proposition. But it had been a long day and Dmitry was shit at this kind of stuff.

“I won’t ask you to play strip poker, Dmitry.” Her eyes still held a bit of mischief in them. “I was going to suggest we just play Go Fish and keep talking.”

“I do like talking to you, Anya.”

“And I like talking to you. It’s easy. I feel…safe with you.” She had scooted so she now sat beside him, shoulder bumping into his.

“I’m glad. I would hope you know I’d do just about anything to keep you safe, Anya.”

The way she looked up at him now, he could see no mischief left in her eyes. Her lips had twitched up in the beginnings of a smirk and Dmitry felt himself leaning in before he abruptly pulled back.

Sadness and disappointment now filled the air between them and Dmitry wanted to kick himself.

“Dmitry…” Anya stared straight ahead into the flames. “I know we’ve been locked up in this apartment for months, but…are you…’involved’ with someone else?”

“What?! No. No absolutely not. What would make you think that?”

“It’s just…I don’t know. Maybe I’m reading this wrong. It could be the vodka or the months of isolation talking, but it just…feels like there’s something here between us, but every time I try and push us past the ‘roommate’ stage, you pull away.”

She turned to face him now, the hurt clearly written across her face. Then, it all clicked.

Their little games. Their fights. The constant teasing. Anya stealing his clothes and cooking all of his favorite things for ‘special occasions.’

 _Fuck_ , he was an idiot.

Instead of speaking – he knew he’d likely fuck it all up if he tried – Dmitry reached for the hand she had been using to tuck her hair behind her ear and gently kissed each of her knuckles. He flipped her hand in his and pressed a light kiss to her inner wrist, maintaining eye contact with her the whole time.

He lifted his lips from her skin and barely managed to get out an “I’m an idiot, Anya” before she had grabbed him by the cheeks and sealed her lips against his. He was so caught off balance by her surprising strength that he toppled over her, sending them both crashing down into the blankets.

Just as Dmitry began trailing kisses down her jaw and throat, the lights clicked back on.

“Wow. The power we have.” Anya giggled against his skin where she’d burrowed in the crook of his neck.

“I guess we can go back to fighting over whichever movie to watch?” She was teasing him again, that much was obvious.

Dmitry snatched the remote from the coffee table next to them and slid it underneath the couch, out of sight and out of reach.

“I have a better idea, instead.”

His lips returned to hers, both of their hands sliding up under their sweatshirts, searching for more skin to touch.

When Dmitry pressed his hips into Anya’s, she broke away from their kiss with a groan.

“Ok, yes. I like this idea. Continue, please.”

Dmitry could only chuckle against her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 💛💛💛
> 
> (this wasn't supposed to be so long, but NO RULES IN 2020)
> 
> Leave a comment below? Thanks 💛


	20. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 holiday chapters for 2020! (no i did not plan this)
> 
> This quick fic is a combination of NYE, Make Up Your Mind Day, No Interruptions Day & National Champagne Day. 
> 
> Brought back our lovely Motorcycle Day couple just for the occasion! Eventually, I'll get around to writing a stand-alone fic for this Chasing Liberty-esque pairing...

“Are you sure you want me to go to this ball with you? I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

Dmitry fiddled with the edge of a blanket as he sat on her bed. His nerves were getting to him, that much was clear to Anya. She stepped in between his legs and tipped his chin up to look at her.

“Of course I do. These balls are always mind-numbingly boring.” She ran her fingers against his jaw, admiring his dimples that appeared as his smirk stretched across his face.

“And you want me to have to suffer through that? How sweet of you, Nastya.” He grabbed her hand, kissing her fingertips lightly.

Anya just rolled her eyes at him. “You’ve caught me, Dima. I’m trying to ruin the relationship with the love of my life just so I don’t have to go to a ball alone.”

While it might’ve been the first ball Dmitry was able to go to – the Tsar and Tsarina were very hesitant about letting the sort-of kidnapper of their daughter roam loose among court – it wasn’t the first time Anya had said she loved him. And yet, each time she said it, he turned into a blushing, love-sick fool.

“How did you manage to convince the Tsar that I deserved to be your plus one?”

“I think Papa realized that I’m less likely to cause trouble if you’re there with me. No reason to sneak out to find you and give Security a coronary.”

That was a valid point. Not that Anya would ever say it to her father’s face. Luckily, the Tsar knew his youngest daughter well enough to know when to give in.

After the first episode of Anya running away during a parade – the press had had a field day when the photos of Anya on the back of Dmitry’s motorcycle emerged – Anya had developed a nasty habit of sneaking out of the palace to meet up with her new love.

Security grew frustrated and the Tsar had to step in again.

The first meeting between Dmitry and the most important man in the country had been tense. It probably hadn’t helped matters that as soon as Dmitry and Anya returned to the palace, Security had tackled him to the ground…but he figured he probably deserved that.

The second meeting was less life or death. The Tsar had tried to plead with Dmitry to stop luring Anastasia – _Anya_ , Dmitry had corrected in his head – out of the palace without proper protection. Dmitry had snorted, rather undignified in the presence of the Tsar, and before he could stop himself, reminded Anya’s father that even he couldn’t stop her from doing whatever it was she wanted.

Tsar Nicholas had laughed at that and agreed. After that, a weird kind of understanding had passed between the two.

In any case, Anya and Dmitry were now free to spend time out in the open together. They spent quite a bit of time at the palace, wandering around the gardens, getting lost in the library. One of Anya’s favorite games was showing Dmitry all of the secret alcoves and hidden passageways, that were certainly _not_ used for inappropriate activities. Dmitry shuddered to think about what would happen if someone had caught them…

“So…will you go with me? I’ll be all dressed up in a fancy ball gown…” Anya trailed off, teasing him. He knew she thought she looked ridiculous in her court attire.

“Tiara and everything?” He looked at her with mock seriousness.

“And blue sash to boot!” She ran her fingers through his hair and he hummed at the delicate tug she gave. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a tux, hair slicked back. I’m not sure I could control myself.”

“I don’t even own a tux, Nastya.” Although the idea of playing dress up was starting to appeal to him. “And I don’t know how to dance or which fork your supposed to use when and all of your fancy lord and lady friends will think you’re crazy for slumming it with me.”

“Dima…” Anya looked at him with fire in her eyes. “I am not slumming it with you. And who cares what anyone else thinks? I want to spend New Year’s Eve with the man I love and I don’t think there’s a person alive who would dare say anything to me against it.”

 _Very true_. Anya had quite the reputation for being downright terrifying amongst the noblemen and women. Everyone was polite – who would be disrespectful to a daughter of the Tsar? – but they always kept conversation short and gave her room to go about her way.

“Alright fine. You’ve made up my mind for me. How could I possibly turn down a Grand Duchess?” He smiled against her lips and then she pushed them back against her pillows.

“You can’t. That’s my super power.” Anya pinned his arms above his head, a hold he could easily break if he wanted, but it was fun to let her think she’d won.

“Do you have another super power that helps me find a tuxedo with only a few hours’ notice?”

“Pff. Go find Alexei. He has it for you in his rooms.”

“You got me a tux before asking me to the ball?! What if I’d said no?”

Anya just shot him a look that let them both know he wouldn’t have done that.

* * *

Later, Anya found him messing with the bow tie in a nearby mirror, looking delectably frazzled.

“Hmmm. How long do you think we have to stay before we can sneak off and ring in the new year in private?” She swatted his hands away from the tie and fixed it herself, letting her hands rest against his chest when finished.

“Nastyaaaa…” Dmitry whining like that shouldn’t have set her aflame, but she wasn’t surprised. That man could read the phone book and she’d want to drag him to the nearest secluded location. “We haven’t even gotten to the ball yet. You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Of course I do. I’m a princess, Dima.”

“Well then let’s get a move on. Can’t miss an opportunity to escort a princess.” He offered his arm and then lead her towards the ballroom. “There’s alcohol at these, right?”

She snorted, rather unlike the princess she looked. “Always. But watch the champagne, Mr. Sudayev. I have plans for you after midnight.”

The way she looked at him out of the corner of her eye had him nervous for all the right reasons.

Then they were in the ballroom and swept up in a flurry of small talk, waltzing, and champagne. Dmitry got pulled to the dance floor by all four Romanov sisters – a cruel trick that he was sure Anya instigated – and Alexei made it a point to make sure Dmitry never was without a drink.

Her siblings had made quite the effort to ensure he didn’t feel out of place. For that, Dmitry was extremely thankful. He wasn’t sure how long he would’ve survived without them there.

But they always seemed to appear to “save” him just as he and Anya were sharing a moment. It was as if they couldn't get a single second alone. 

Anya had wanted nothing more than to be in Dmitry’s arms as the band played a slow tune. The intimacy of the moment, despite being in a crowded ballroom, was almost perfect. Then Maria and Alexei demanded they cut in and pulled them both in opposite, decidedly less-fun, directions.

The third time it happened, Anya debated causing a scene. She had agreed to go to the ball out of duty and obligation to her family. Damnit though, she wanted to spend New Year’s Eve with Dmitry and if she needed to snap at someone, she would.

As she stewed in her frustrations, she didn’t notice Dmitry sneak up behind her, two champagne flutes in his hands.

“Come with me.”

His whisper against her ear sent shivers down her back and Anya threw any pre-ball lecture she’d received out the window. Dmitry led them from the room and she giggled at his attempt to be sneaky.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there. Alexei told me about it.”

“Alexei knows of a place in the palace that I don’t??”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Finally, they stopped in front of a tapestry of Alexander I. Dmitry checked that the coast was clear and then lifted the material up to reveal a nook that was in fact, brand new to Anya’s knowledge.

“Well isn’t this convenient.” She accepted the glass from him and was pleased to see he’d switched them to water. Anya loved her champagne, but she felt fuzzy enough with the excitement of the evening with Dmitry.

“Happy New Year’s, Nastya.” Their glasses clinked together and Dmitry checked his father’s watch to see how close they were to the countdown. “Looks like we have about a minute to go.”

“So how was your first ball?” She’d hoped he didn’t regret it. The night had been a bit much, but she did have fun and he had seemed to enjoy himself at points as well.

“Definitely memorable, that’s for sure.” He grabbed their glasses and sat them on the little ledge next to her. Pressing her against the wall, as much as her gown would allow, his voice dropped low. “If it means I get to sneak off with a Grand Duchess, I’ll go to as many balls as you’d like.”

“Really?” Not that she’d ask that of him. She didn’t even really like these things. She’d much rather go for rides with Dmitry down the winding roads, exploring parts of the country she’d never seen before.

The bell tower rang out then, signaling the new year and all the possibilities that went with it. Dmitry sealed his lips against hers as his answer. They sunk into the kiss and Anya mentally sent up a prayer of thanks for the secluded spot. Her groan could only be muffled by his mouth so much, and if they had been anywhere else, someone could’ve easily heard them and come to investigate.

The bells continued to ring and Dmitry peppered soft kisses against her skin. Finally, he pulled away and smiled as he waited for her to open her eyes and come back to the present.

“Yes, really.” He kissed her once more, for good measure, and then motioned for the exit. “Think we can make it back to your room without being caught?”

“I don’t really care at this point. Get your ass moving so I can rip that tux off of you.”

The journey back to Anya’s rooms took forever, mostly because she kept pulling him off to the side to kiss him silly before breaking away as if nothing had happened. He could do nothing else but follow along dumbly, but not at all upset with the turn of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE MADE IT TO 2021!!!
> 
> so proud. in celebration, leave a comment or just say hello 💛💛💛
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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